Tempestatum
by The Teutonic Knight
Summary: One attack on Godric's Hallow and a life is changed. Two brothers, the younger known as of October 31, 1981, the Boy Who Lived, and the other to be forgotten. One will live in the shadows, the other in the heights of fame and glory. The question is: Which brother will it be?
1. Prologue

**AN: Hello everyone. Firstly, I appreciate that you took the time to actually read the story, and I will warn you now this is my first fic. Flames are not welcome, and you will realize I have been influenced by many stories. Constructive criticism is welcome though, as well as reviews saying you love the story.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

The moon was at its full glory, the brilliant white light shining down on the quiet Muggle suburb of Little Whinging, Surrey.

It was, to the casual observer, a normal neighborhood with no particular distinction to it, the night quiet except for the occasional chirping of the odd cricket.

However, today was no normal night by any means.

Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily as he carried the comatose, sleeping form of a three year old, walking awkwardly to accommodate the extra weight. It was a pity that he had to commit such a crime, abandoning a child that remembered his blood parents and force him to leave the place he knew as home. Dumbledore knew that this action would weigh heavily on his conscience.

Yet it was for the greater good. Dumbledore felt a pang of guilt rip through him and he nearly tripped when the thought entered his mind. He knew that it was manipulative to think that way.

Yet still...still Dumbledore felt that it was for the better. For if he left the young boy with his immediate family, he knew that the boy would be neglected, ignored, and deprived of the love that he needed. Dumbledore shook his head with a grimace. The foolishness of the Potters irked him, the pride they had when they realized that their son, not the one he carried right now, but the _other_ one, the younger one, the one with dark red hair and hazel eyes, was the Boy-Who-Lived. And they insisted on the fact that they would not be able to properly care for Harry if he stayed.

But he knew that the Boy-Who-Lived must grow up with the proper doting and love in order for him to succeed against his fight against Voldemort.

Yet, as another thought crossed his mind, wouldn't leaving Adam Potter with his parents lead to a constant fawning and doting? Make him arrogant, pretentious, and expecting? Demanding others to worship him? Dumbledore shuddered at the thought of a returned Voldemort with the Boy-Who-Lived with such traits.

The wizened wizard shook his head sadly. Yet there was no choice. He could only hope that in the future, the choice he had made would better benefit young Harry Potter more so than forcing him to stay with a loveless family. He could only hope that the Muggle family, the Dursleys if he recalled correctly, would treat him with more care than his magical family.

Dumbledore shook himself out of his reverie when he realized he was approaching his destination. A house, one Number 4 Privet Drive, flashed blue for an instant as powerful wards were set up with a few flicks of a wand, the intricate movements flowing smoothly from one the other.

Dumbledore's mouth twisted in a sad smile as remembered how fast his long gone friend could put up such wards with his wand. And how the very same wand failed to work for him.

Alas, such a wand was never meant for him, Dumbledore thought wistfully. It was never meant to be.

The old wizard walked up slowly to the front porch, laying the small boy he carried down on the cold concrete. With regret, Dumbledore transfigured a thick blanket to combat the vicious autumn night and wrapped the child snugly, finally placing a letter next to the sleeping form.

It was a pity that this was forced to happen. He almost wished he could take him in himself.

Even at this young age Dumbledore could feel the raw, aching, pulsating power lying hidden in young Harry's core. Alas, the Potters had forced his hand.

With a twinge of sadness, the vanquisher of Grindelwald turned his back on the house, looked back for a moment, and then continued.

A quiet pop echoing throughout the neighborhood a few seconds later signified that the intrusion on the peace and quiet of Little Whinging was gone.

Only the occasional chirping of the crickets broke the silence once more. In the distance, a dim gong signified the end of midnight and the passing of demons.

And on the front porch of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, a still form lay, chest moving slowly up and down, unaware of his abandonment, still believing that he was at home, safe, and in a warm and comforting bed.

Yet he was not alone. A being of extraordinary power, invisible on the mortal plane, smiled. No, Harry Potter, you will far overshadow the miserable being of your brother.

**AN: So...drop a review or just follow the darn story. There will be quite a bit of profanity, believe me, and maybe some adult references in the future, so it'll be M for that reason.**

**I'm aiming for once every week updates, but the figure is more likely 1.5 or 2 weeks.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Paperfist55**


	2. Chapter 1: Pre-Hogwarts and Ollivanders

**AN: As I said before, fairly slow updates, as I will try to make each chapter above two thousand each time. I have summer camp and so updates will be even slower because they are AP level classes. Some clarifications are...**

**-Yes, it probably is Harry gets all the bitches etc. (and this is straight...I support gay marriage and all but like I get uncomfortable reading/writing it...)**

**-Yes, it is super powerful Harry but he needs to work his ass off**

**-Yes, I will overlap with some elements from Deprived, Harry Potter and the Elemental's Power, and Harry Potter and the Rise from Dust**

**Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

"C'mon Scarhead! Ain't you gonna play with me?" sneered out a giant killer whale of a boy.

Harry Potter rolled his eyes and simply stayed put behind the bushes. It was the daily game of "Harry Hunting" as summer had begun and the protection he had gotten from the kindergarten teacher was nonexistent. He had to be careful though, if Aunt Petunia found out that he had been hiding in her bushes, she would make him pull the entire plant out and replant it...AGAIN.

Not to mention the probable week in the cupboard without food.

"Oye! There he is!"

The shout from Piers Polkiss drove Harry out of his train of thought. In a flash, he jumped up from his now useless hiding spot and began a full sprint.

However, Piers had more brains than Dudely did, and ordered two of Dudely's cronies to block Harry's escape path.

With a cry Harry turned sharply right, and began to outrun the slow henchboys of Dudely. Grinning he turned a left and froze. A steep wall prevented further running. Frantically, Harry searched for other possible escape routes, but found none.

The loud pants of Dudely and his gang reached Harry, and he turned around resignedly.

A heavy punch knocked the six year old to the ground, his glasses falling from his face and shattering beneath the foot of Dudely Dursely. With a grin, the obese boy and his friends began to kick the smaller, slighter boy into oblivion, not caring about the tears that streamed down his face.

"Worthless freak!" Dudely snarled. The gang joined in with the cruel jeers, taking their turns to lay abuse on the hapless boy.

It was then something snapped in Harry's eyes. The tears abruptly stopped flowing. And when his opened eyes, they weren't the soulful eyes that he normally had. No, the eyes were flashing Avada Kedavra green, pure rage and hate pouring from them. The look was enough to startle the gang into inaction. Harry's three years of neglect and abuse by his hated caretakers poured out, and he sent all of his hate at one unlucky Dudely Dursley. The fat boy's eyes widened in fear before he was lifted clean off the ground and was sent crashing into a nearby tree, the enormous mass of fat sent with so much force the tree itself snapped.

The rest of the gang took one look at their fallen leader before running for their lives.

But Harry wasn't finished.

With more unnatural energy pouring out of his hands, the slowed his escaping tormenters to a crawl and summoned them back.

At the last moment, Harry stepped out of the way and the other three boys crashed into the garden wall. The unnatural, startling crunch of bone that resulted caused the young boy to smile. He stalked dangerously to the enormous whale of a boy who was frantically attempting to escape his now powerful cousin. Harry smiled cruelly before levitating Dudley, as the larger boy pleaded.

"Please...please Harry. I-I'm sorry!" the miserable boy wailed.

Harry smiled genuinely and Dudely gave a hopeful look, before being sent face first into the wall along with his other friends.

Harry left the miserable, broken, crying idiots behind, smiling coldly as he entered the house.

It was that day Harry realized that he was different than other people. It was that day he realized that he was special, in a way that Dudely or ANYONE else could never be.

* * *

The incident had happened five years ago, and much had changed since then.

After he broke up Dudely's pitiful gang, he had gone in the house and showed off his new powers to his Uncle and Aunt.

Needless to say, they were _very_ pleased at the display, though it took a more potent display of such magic to convince his uncle to leave him alone.

For the past five years he had been treated the way he always hoped to be treated, with kindness, and, if Harry dared think of it, just a tiny bit of love.

Harry crushed the thought with anger. Love?

Aunt Petunia had told him all about the contents of the letter that arrived with him that one bitter day when he was still three. When he still remembered his parents.

A wave of hate rushed throughout his body when he thought of them

They abandoned him. They fucking abandoned them for a son that had more fame.

With effort, Harry squashed the rage that coursed through him. He could not let his façade slip now, right before a Hogwarts professor was to show the "Muggle-born" the existence of magic.

He turned his thoughts to his magical abilities. A genuine smile erupted on his face when he thought of the time he took revenge on his "family."

The constriction of Vernon's heart the one time he tried to disobey Harry's new rules was enough to frighten the shit out of the Dursleys. Not to mention the time where he locked Petunia into an ice filled bathroom naked when she tried to get him to clean the entire house.

By the time he was nine, he had mastered his wandless magic to an extent that was near unbelievable for someone twice his age.

Not that he was going to flaunt it, he frowned.

The sudden ringing of the door shook Harry out of his thoughts. In a second, his face was transformed into the emotionless mask. Mentally, he smiled. Petunia detested that face.

With three powerful strides, he reached the door and pulled it open, smiling charmingly, if a bit fakely.

"Good morning ma'am. How are you today? Are you alright?" he pretended to frown when he saw the startled face of one Professor McGonnagall.

Her face, one of which that convened shock, was quickly changed to one of professionalism. "Good morning Mr. Pot-Potter? Mr. Potter. I am...well, thank you. I assumed you got your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes ma'am, I did. Please, come in."

The witch returned Harry's smile and entered the house.

After the door was shut and locked, the Professor followed the young wizard to the sitting room, where Harry called out, "Aunt Petunia! We have a visitor!"

His aunt bustled around in the kitchen, quickly snatching a bottle of brandy and a glass before entering. Harry spoke, breaking the awkward silence, "So, will I be going to Diagon Alley today with you, correct?"

"Yes Mr. Potter. Will I need to provide an example for your Muggle relatives? They might have believed the letter as a joke."

"No ma'am. They know about the world of magic far more than one would...normally expect," a predatory smile erupting on his face. In his peripheral vision, he saw Petunia blanch for a split second, before she regained her composure.

The professor seemed not to notice and continued the regular monologue on paying for Hogwarts, school supplies, etc. and half an hour after the arrival of the professor, Harry and Professor McGonagall were walking out of the house, a check of 5000 pounds with them.

The witch smiled tightly. "Have you ever heard of Side-Along Apparation, Mr. Potter?"

Harry replied, "No ma'am. I have never heard of such a thing. Can you please explain what it is?"

A brief explanation of the term, which Harry paid little attention, and a small pop later, the two appeared in a tavern. The young wizard blinked several times as he recovered from the disorienting experience of Apparation.

Harry looked around. The bar had a few patrons, wizards and witches with their ridiculous hats and capes, drinking heavily. A few were chatting with the bartender.

"Heya Professor McGonagall! Can I get ya something?" the bartender smiled

The witch smiled thinly. "Just passing through, Tom."

"Alrighty, alrighty."

Harry followed Professor McGonagall to an opening on the other side of the tavern. With a smile, the professor said, "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

The young wizard's left eyebrow rose slightly. "A brick wall Professor? I expected a bit more..."

Professor McGonnagall glared at Harry, before saying, "In good time, Mr. Potter. In good time."

She tapped a few bricks on the brick wall while muttering something about the lack of manners of todays generation while Harry just watched, amused.

Suddenly, the brick wall dissipated and formed an arch, revealing Diagon Alley.

Even for Harry, who had extraordinary control over his true emotions, the sight was breathtaking. The street was bustling with masses of activity, vendors frequenting the front of every building, bright signs and happy shouts emanating from each part of the alley. The young wizard took in the scene briefly before looking at Professor McGonagall and asking, "So Professor, where to first?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes and retorted, "All in good time, Mr. Potter. All in good time. First you will need to convert your pounds to Galleons, and THEN you can start thinking about your wand."

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and simply followed Professor McGonagall to a tall, imposing building with strange creatures guarding the entrance.

As Harry walked up the white marble steps of Gringotts, he noticed a plaque on the side that read the following:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry smirked. The goblins were seemingly confident in their security. He made a mental note that they could very well be good allies in the future.

The young wizard walked amiably through the enormous bronze doors and past the two well armed goblin guards. Harry could feel the glaring eyes of Professor McGonagall on his back, so he waited for the older witch to catch up before continuing.

About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Professor McGonagall and Harry walked to an empty teller.

The professor cleared her throat. "Good morning."

The goblin looked up, clearly annoyed. It snarled, "What do you want?"

In an equally fierce voice, McGonagall replied, "We are here to exchange some Muggle Notes for Galleons."

The goblin sneered. "Well then, what are you waiting for? Hurry up, I haven't got all day."

Harry handed a thick wad of pounds to the goblin, who with a speed unexpected of such a short, swarthy creature, counted them before pulling out a large bag of coins."

"That will be 1000 Galleons for you," the goblin said. "A good day to you."

The goblin returned to his ledger while Harry and the Professor McGonagall walked out of the bank, eyes blinking rapidly due to the re-exposure to the sun.

Harry immediately had his eyes on Ollivander's, and with a reluctant sigh Professor McGonagall said, "Fine! I know you're excited, and since it's the closest shop to Gringott's, we might as well pick up your wand."

Harry grinned happily. "Thanks Professor! I really appreciate it."

The professor and student entered the musty, old shop, the bell attached to the door ringing eerily.

"Who's there?"

A pair of startlingly silver eyes peered out from the shadows of the store. "Ah...Minerva McGonagall...wood from a fir tree, nine and half inches long, dragon heartstring core, nice and flexible."

The old man gave a smile. "And you...you look so much like..Ahhh yes...Mister...Potter?"

Harry gave a tight smile, though his eyes started to glow Avada Kedavra green once more. "Yes Mr. Ollivander. Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."

Ollivander chuckled. "Yes, yes. And of course you are here for your wand, so let's get started!"

A clap of the old wandmaker's hands and a tape measure flew out. "Which hand is your wand hand?"

Harry spoke, mentally rolling his eyes at the pointless measurements sure to follow. "I am right handed sir."

As expected, the tape measure started the measure the girth of his arm, length, etc. Harry resisted the urge to crush the annoying instrument and tossing its remains onto the street.

"Off we go! Let's try this one...yew, thirteen inches, dragon heartstring from one nasty Hungarian Horntail. Excellent for battle magic and charms..."

Harry waved his wand around and winced as all the boxes in the shop came crashing down.

"Nope, not that one," Ollivander said, snatching the wand out of Harry's grasp. "And this one is palm, nine inches, phoenix tail, nice and swishy..."

A random bolt of light flew from the wand and hit Professor McGonagall, turning the prim and proper witch to a all leather wearing, cigar-smoking, motorcyclist.

Ollivander chuckled, ignoring an irate Transfiguration Professor. "Nope...What about this one? Birch, fifteen inches, unicorn tail from this one shy female."

Strong perfume filled the shop, causing all occupants to cough heavily.

"Nope-cough-Obviously-cough-not that one!" A Freshening Charm later, the shop's smell was clean once more.

* * *

For over an hour, Harry desperately tried every wand in the shop, to no avail. The wand shop was countlessly cleaned or repaired, to the irritation of Professor McGonagall.

Finally, after Ollivander gave Harry a wand that he was certain would work, some holly and phoenix feather one, and subsquently blowing up the counter, the old wandmaker said, "Hmmm...Tricky customer we have here." His silver eyes twinkled. "I might even try...yes, just this one time."

Still muttering to himself, Ollivander disappeared into the back of his shop. A minute later, he came out, clutching an old, worn box.

"Mr. Potter, if this doesn't work, then I don't know what will. But I will say that _this _wand is...special."

Harry's eyes widened a fraction of an inch when Ollivander unveiled the wand. The entire body of the wand was jet black, arcane runes covering the handle. It was curved slightly, and had a worn pommel. If Harry could describe it, he would say it was badass.

"Fourteen inches of elder wood, unknown core, or maybe even cores." Ollivander spoke softly, reverently. "Or, better known as the Elder Wand."

The gasp that emanated from Professor McGonagall was more than enough to confirm that the wand was no ordinary wand.

"And now, you may try."

As soon has Harry took the wand, it felt as if a missing part of him had been complete, as if a part of soul had finally come forth. A brilliant white light filled the room, blinding the occupants.

A few seconds later, the blinding light died down, allowing the three of them to see the effects of Harry's chosen wand. The sight caused all three to gape in wonder.

The entire store had been renovated, the old timber counters and floorboards immediately changed to read oak. The cabinets that had held the wands were neatly organized by wood and core, the bell that was attached to the door now gold, the dust that inhabited the store now gone.

Ollivander began to chuckle, breaking the silence. "Mr. Potter, it seems as if you are destined for a great many things! I can only hope that I will live long enough to see them."

Harry replied, "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

He hesitantly pulled out his large bag of Galleons, asking, "How much will the wand be, sir?"

"Oh! No, I could not possibly accept money for something I did not create," the wandmaker said, eyes twinkling. "You see, this wand has been passed down from wizard to wizard for many generations. Ever since the beginning...Have you ever heard of the legend of the Deathly Hallows?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well then! Let me begin."

"There is a wand of legends that has had many names in the past, but one name that would be the most proper would be the 'Elder Wand', as you already know, and that wand is the wand you hold in your hands right now," he began, in a grandfatherly "story-telling" voice.

"If you are to believe legends, and in the Wizarding world, one will learn that to every legend, there is always some semblance of truth, then perhaps this story may interest you," he said. "There was once a story of three brothers who were walking, and in time, came upon a river too deep and dangerous to swim or wade across, but because the brothers were learned in the magical arts, they produced a bridge over the river. At the middle of the bridge, they came across a hooded figure, Death himself. Death was enraged, for the clever brothers crossed over the river unharmed while the previous travelers drowned in the dangerous waters. Death pretended to congratulate the wizards and told them they each deserved a prize for their marvelous magic," Ollivander paused there to gather his thoughts.

"The oldest of the brothers, who was a combative man, asked for a duel-winning wand, also worthy for a wizard who conquered Death. So Death retrieved a branch from an Elder Tree and fashioned a wand to give to the oldest brother," he explained, motioning to the wand in Harry's hands causing Harry's eyes to widen in shock. "The second of the brothers, who was arrogant, wanted to humiliate Death further and asked for the power to recall the dead. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to him and told him that the stone had the power of resurrection. The youngest brother was the humblest, the wisest, and did not trust Death in the slightest. He asked for something enabling him to move on without being followed by Death. So Death most unwillingly gave up his Cloak of Invisibility to the brother. After this, Death moved out of the way, and the brothers discussed their recent adventure," Ollivander was pleased to see that he had Harry.

"In time, the brothers separated towards different adventures. The oldest brother engaged in duels which he always won, boasting about his invincible wand from Death. One night, however, when he was asleep, a jealous wizard crept up on him, slit the brother's throat, and took the wand for himself; Death then took the first brother for his own," he said to the surprised wizard. Harry looked at his wand warily, but still held it in an iron-like grip, not willing to give it up.

"The second brother had a home where he lived alone; he got the stone out one day and turned it thrice in his hand. The woman who he hoped to marry, only to have died previously, appeared before him. She was separated from her deathly world and was sad and cold. Driven mad, the second brother killed himself and rejoined his love in death; Death then took the second brother for his own," he paused, his eyes flickering as he tried to remember the rest of the tale.

"Death never found the youngest brother until he took off the cloak and passed it to his son. Death appeared upon the youngest brother who greeted him as an old friend and they departed from the world as equals.

The three objects that death fashioned for the brothers were forever known as the Deathly Hallows. It is said that whoever wields all three of the hallows will be considered the master of death, so you see why that wand can be considered a blessing and a curse . . ."

Silence reigned supreme for a moment, before Harry spoke, "I'm sorry sir but I find it a little...extravagant? To actually believe."

"Most do. In fact, I do as well. But all legends have a grain of truth in them. Many have died in the bloody course of this wand. Yet its powers lure many to their deaths. In fact, the last owner of this wand was the Dark Wizard Grindelwald himself," Ollivander said grimly. "Yet Dumbledore defeated him, so really, the wand can be beatable."

"So why didn't Dumbledore use it then?"

Ollivander smiled. "Excellent question. It simply didn't work for him."

Harry raised his left eyebrow. "And so he gave the wand to you, so you could one day find its wielder?"

"Yes my boy."

"I appreciate your wonderful story on this, but we really must get going." McGonagall interjected before Harry could respond.

"Of course. Of course."

As Harry and Professor McGongall left the shop, Ollivander retreated to his newly recreated office. He smiled appreciatively at the neat stack of wand making tools. He took out a parchment, sighing. He had a letter to write.

* * *

**AN: Ok so that's it. A few more clarifications...**

**-Dumbledore will be good but flawed**

**-Harry is a bit overconfident of his abilities as of now. Sure, he is pretty powerful, but he will need someone to knock the sense that he can do everything out of him**

**-Yes, Harry is **_**only 2 years older **_**than Adam. REMEMBER THAT.**

**Drop a Review please.**

**Signing off,**

**The Teutonic Knight**


	3. Chapter 3: The Train Ride and Sorting

**AN: Nothing new, here's a new chapter. Of course, no one has been so kind to drop constructive criticism.**

Harry walked onto Platform 9, pulling his trunk and carrying an owl he had named Hedwigl. It had been three weeks since his trip to Diagon Alley, and though he hated to admit it, he was excited for the first time in his rather short life. The entirety of his life had been spent with an unloving family, with no chance to learn or even prove himself.

Luckily for him, that was about to change.

Harry arrived at the transition, pushing past Muggles who crowded the station, from Platforms 9 and 10, confused. He rechecked his letter.

Platform 9¾.

What the fuck?

He glanced around, confused, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Looking for Platform 9¾?"

Harry spun around, eyes narrowing. The owner of the voice of a young girl, around his age. She had long, lustrous black hair that reached all the way down to the middle of her back, with ice-blue eyes, a small nose, and lips turned up in a smirk.

"Yes," he replied affirmatively

She smirked. "The entrance to the Platform is disguised. The pillar over there is no solid object. Rather, it is a portal. Try running through it the first time. It helps."

Harry nodded, signifying his thanks before running full pace into the pillar. Right before he hit it, he closed his eyes, expecting to be transported to somewhere else...

Only to hit a real wall. Harry gritted his teeth and brought his hands to his forehead. He felt blood trickling down his face. Harry looked up at the girl, who had made a fool out of him in the middle of a populated Muggle train station.

He stood up, waving his hand once, and the wound that opened up on his forehead closed. Harry smirked as he saw the look of surprise on the girl's face.

Ignoring the previous event and deciding that retaliating would do no good, he said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss...?"

"Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass," the girl, even more surprised at the lack of a response.. "And you?"

"Harry. Just Harry."

Daphne raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

The two newcomers to Hogwarts went to the next pillar, the one several others were running through, and entered the portal.

Harry blinked in surprise at the new change in surroundings. The screams and shouts and noise of the entire general area nearly overwhelmed him. A red and gold train, one that seemed as if it belonged in the earlier part of the century, was the obvious landmark on the scene.

"Move, dumbass."

The voice of one Daphne Greengrass shook him out of his reverie. Harry walked on, refusing to listen to the happy screams and shouts of family.

Family.

The one thing he would never have.

Harry crushed his jealousy, flattening them with his fair, if a bit crude, Occulemency shields. A state of calm enveloped him, though he still felt the emotion lingering in his mind.

The young wizard stalked up to the train, shoving those in his way, earning him a few annoyed looks. A wave of his hand and his trunk levitated in front of him. The first empty compartment Harry found was opened, before being shut and locked with a complex locking charm he learned from his books.

He opened his truck and wordlessly summoned _Defending your Mind _by _Severus Snape _and began to read. Apparently, there were two main types of Occulemency. One was active, the other passive. Passive Occulemency was the art of constructing an impermeable mindscape that prevented invasion of the mind. Active Occulemecy was the art of hiding memories behind less important ones, or fake ones altogether.

It was obvious that the second type of Occulemency was a lot harder to master.

A faint tapping on the compartment door distracted him momentarily. Outside, the girl, Daphne, and an unknown straight-haired blonde witch with hazel eyes were waiting, an exasperated look clear on both faces.

With a lazy wave of his hand, the door unlocked and the two shocked witches entered, albeit after a short period of gawking.

"How the _fuck_ did you do that?" asked the blonde.

Harry glanced upwards, annoyed. "Magic."

The witch glared at him. "Who are you?"

"Harry."

"Harry who?"

"Just Harry."

At this Daphne smirked. "I don't understand why you are so touchy about your last name, _Harry_. Anyways, since my friend's manners are obviously lacking, let me introduce her. This is Tracey Davis, half-blood. Her father is part of a minor pureblood line."

The other witch, Tracey, glared at Daphne. "I can introduce myself quite well, thank you."

Harry smirked.

The irate witches both glared at him, but failed to instigate a response. The next few minutes were laced with tension, the two girls glaring heatedly at Harry and at one another, until another tapping on the compartment door distracted them.

Harry, this time without even looking up, released the locking charm.

"How the hell did you do that?" a lower, male voice asked him.

"Just go fuck yourself, Zabini," the witches said in unison, though it was obvious that they were playful.

"Now now, play nice."

Harry lifted his gaze, switching his focus from the Occulemency text to the newcomer. In front of him stood a dark skinned, probably Italian, dark haired boy. Hazel eyes completed the figure's face.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Zabini."

"Likewise...I never caught your name. What is it?"

"Harry." Before Zabini could interject, he said. "Just Harry."

The Italian boy raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. "Blaise Zabini."

The two boys shook hands before sitting down. A quick wave of Harry's hand and the compartment door shut and locked itself before another obnoxious dunderhead could enter.

The rest of the train ride was spent in a rather awkward manner, with Harry reading, Blaise staring outside the window, and the two girls talking.

Bored to tears of Goblin Wars and the terrors of the Nordic Vikings (he had finished the Occulemency text halfway through the ride), Harry finally decided to break the ice. With a sudden move, he slammed the book he was reading, gave his best charming smile, which brought a slight blush to the girls' cheeks, and asked, "So what house do you think you'll be in?"

"Slytherin."

Harry shrugged at Blaise's conviction. "And you, ladies?"

Daphne spoke up first. "Two of us are purebloods and the other is still a first generation half blood. What do you think?"

Harry inwardly smirked. "Hufflepuff of course."

He sighed while Blaise snorted at Daphne's incredulous look. "No shit, Greengrass. Slytherin."

Daphne glared at him. "I knew that."

"Sure you did."

Blaise spoke up. "Are your parents pureblood, Harry?"

At once, the occupants of the small compartment knew it was the wrong question to ask. Harry clenched his fists tightly, tight enough to draw blood. His eyes were closed, but when they snapped back open, the three others recoiled.

"My parents," he said softly. "Do not exist. They deserted me for a chance of fame, deluding themselves into thinking that it was best for me to be left ignorant and stupid. For the supposed greater good."

Harry closed his eyes again. This time, no hate resonated off of him. He sighed.

"What is your last name?"

Harry smiled bitterly. "You'll find out soon enough."

Suddenly, a voice crackled on the intercom. "_We are approaching Hogwarts, and therefore it should be time to change from your current clothes to appropriate robes for Hogwarts._"

Smirking, Harry said, "Now, should the boys leave, the girls leave, or should we stay in the same compartment?" With a slight grin, he added, "I'm sort of leaning to the last option, just saying."

With two indignant girls behind them, Harry and Blaise were forced to move to another compartment. Harry sighed. "I'm pretty sure we had a chance back there, Blaise."

The other boy smirked. "Same here."

* * *

The foursome stood outside the train in Hogsmeade. Harry cast his eyes around, before pointing at an enormous man who was busy crying, "Firs' years o'er here! Firs' years o'er here!"

Harry raised his eyebrows and asked Blaise, "Who's that man?"

The other boy replied, "I think his name's Rubeus Hagrid. He's the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, and believe it or not, my father told me he was expelled from Hogwarts in his third year."

"Damn."

The entire body of first years followed the half-giant, as Harry inferred by the man's impossibly large size, to the edge of a large lake, where a bunch of boats were waiting.

"Three people to a boat, firs' years! Three people to a boat!"

The girls split from Harry and Blaise and took another boat, while the boys went into the one in front of them with one Amadeus Richards. Harry inwardly smirked as he noticed the gamekeeper needed an entire boat to himself to stay afloat, and even then, it was low in the water.

To Harry's slight surprise, the boat jerked forward on its own. He growled when he heard Blaise laugh behind him. "Magic. Impressive, no?"

Harry simply glared at the Italian boy before turning back around when a sudden movement caused him to flinch, before realizing the movement was not threatening. Rather, it was...waving?

Harry raised his eyebrows again as he saw said movement belonged to a tentacle. The loud laughter of Hagrid signified that the tentacle was innocuous.

Harry yelped in surprise as he as yanked off his feet.. The young wizard began to laugh as he heard the horrified shrieks of the first year student body and Hagrid shouting, "NO! BAD BETTY!"

The amusement was brought to an end when the face of the giant squid surfaced, the enormous yellow eyes of the creature making Harry feel as if he was being judged.

For a long time the squid looked at the young wizard, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

"Please put me down," Harry snarled.

He swore he saw the Giant Squid's eyes twinkle in amusement before the entire beast rose from the water and the tentacle that held him placed him on the squid's head. It then took off, keeping pace with the boats.

Exhilaration filled Harry, replacing the initial shock, as he felt the wind blow past his face. He felt free, free of the world, free of obligations and promises, free of his burdens, his jealousy, his troubles, for the first time in his life.

As they rounded the bend, a beautiful sight lay beholden. Harry couldn't help but let his jaw drop as the castle, illuminated against the night sky, towered above the Black Lake. Towers soared high into the air, massive walls and ramparts impervious to attack. The Main Gate, approaching rapidly, was by itself a good eighty feet high.

The Giant Squid suddenly stopped, before a tentacle emerged from the murky water and wrapped around the young wizard. Before it lifted him, Harry said quietly, "Thank you."

Again, Harry swore that the squid gave a imperceptible nod before he was lifted onto the shores. Immediately, the crowd of first years ran towards him, each one asking how awesome it was to be riding the Giant Squid to Hogwarts. Harry shook his head in disgust. He waved his hand, drying his clothing before following Hagrid up the path that led to the Main Gate.

He dropped back a bit, ignoring the questions, and resumed walking with Blaise, Daphne, and Tracey. Each one knew that he was annoyed by the continuous questions, so they politely talked amongst other things.

"Who are the ghosts?" Harry asked.

"Well, the only one that would really matter would be the Bloody Baron, because he inhabits the Slytherin house," replied Daphne. "But the other ones include the Grey Lady for Ravenclaw, Nearly-Headless Nick for Gryffindor, and the Fat Friar for Hufflepuff."

"I heard from my brother to watch out for Peeves," Tracey frowned. "Peeves the Poltergist. Have ou guys heard of him?"

Blaise nodded. "He's the resident prankster. My sister has been terrorized multiple times by it. However," he added with a grin. "The only thing that can scare him away other than the Headmaster is the Bloody Baron, and he's Slytherin's resident ghost."

Harry smirked. "Lucky for you. I have not a clue what house I will be in."

Further conversation was stopped by the sudden opening of the gates. Boom after boom could be heard as the locks behind the Main Gate unlocked. The gates opened inwards, revealing one Professor McGonagall.

She began to speak. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, the Deptuty Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."

McGonagall took a good look around the new crowd of first years. She found Harry and gave a small smile. In return, Harry inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Follow me please."

The first-years followed the Professor into a small antechamber off to the side of the entrance to the Great Hall. There, they waited.

"I heard we have to fight a _troll_ to get Sorted," said one red-headed boy, along with who Harry presumed to be his identical twin.

Harry was about to snort when he noticed the mischievous grins on their faces. Smiling slightly himself, Harry decided to play along.

"Yeah!" he said, wide-eyed. "And you get sorted into the houses depending on the way you beat it! If you fight it straight on, you go to Gryffindor. If you persuade it to become peaceful, then you go to Hufflepuff. If you outwit it, you go to Ravenclaw. And if you wait in the shadows for the right time to strike, you go to Slytherin."

Pausing dramatically, he added, "The survival rate is only _five _percent!"

One of the first years moaned in terror and fainted.

"Mr. Potter! What is going on here?" an irate Professor McGonagall asked, making her way over to the collapsed first year.

Harry mustered a charming smile. "I'm sorry Professor. These two," he gestured at the red heads. "Decided it would be funny if they spread lies on the Sorting. According to them, we would be facing mountain trolls as a way to Sort. Due to the fact that trolls are extraordinarily scary and dangerous, this student fainted. I apologize on behalf of those two clutzes."

Professor McGonagall turned her glare on full to the scape-goats, who were busy attempting to convince the Professor of their innocence. "Don't get me started, Misters Weasley. I have heard enough about your antics from Charlie. This will be your one and _only_ warning. Do you understand me?"

The twins nodded ruefully, before whispering to Harry, "Good one, mate!"

Harry merely smirked.

"Follow me, first years."

After being in the dim glow of the torches, the room was bright, as so far it went to physical discomfort. He could distinctly see four different tables, each with its own set of colors, and one table in the very front. Harry scanned the Head Table.

On the very left, in front of the green and silver table, which Harry knew was Slytherin, sat a dour faced, pale, hook nosed man with obsidian eyes. Next to him sat a few other unknown teachers, then a short, probably Half-Goblin man who sat in front of the Ravenclaw table. From the right and onwards, a puffy nosed woman with kindly eyes sat in front of the Hufflepuff table, as well as a few other unknown teachers. An empty chair next to the center of the table probably belonged to Professor McGonagall. And in the very center sat an old, kindly faced man with annoyingly twinkling blue eyes.

Harry's eyes widened. He had seen him before, but where?

An old man.

Bearded.

Glasses.

Piercing blue eyes.

Harry's eyes widened. It was the man that had dropped him off at the Dursely's! He stiffened. Did this man send him there, or was it merely the wishes of his so called "family." His eyes narrowed. The truth would soon be found.

A sudden voice that cried, "Abigails, Adam!" shook him out of his thoughts.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" was the return answer from a mangy old hat that rested upon the boy's head. The grey eyed boy with ratty brown hair blushed an scurried to the Hufflepuff table while said table erupted in applause.

Harry took the moment to notice the ceiling, which was probably charmed to resemble the night sky. The stars seemed bright and hopeful, the way he felt right now. It was a pity that he could no longer stare up into the sky, wishing for a better future as the way he had at the Dursely's.

A familiar name was read off. "Davies, Tracey!"

Harry watched with interest as the girl seemed to argue with the Hat, judging by the facial expressions of the Hat. This Sorting took about a minute, longer than all previous ones, but it finally cried out...

"RAVENCLAW!"

The girl sadly walked over to the Ravenclaw table, morose and glum. Harry pitied her, but just for a moment, as another familiar name was called right after.

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

This time the hat took even longer, seemingly arguing more heatedly then previously.

Finally, "SLYTHERIN!"

The black haired girl looked relieved as she walked to the leftmost table of green and silver, sitting down and mouthing what looked like "Sorry" to Tracy.

"Piper, Thomas!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

_Here it comes..._, Harry thought, dread filling him before it was mercilessly crushed by his shields. _The moment where my disgraceful heritage will be revealed..._

"Potter, Harry!"

Immediately, whispers broke out across the Great Hall.

"Potter as in _them _Potters?"

"Adam Potter has an _older brother_?"

"He's the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Do you think I can get Adam's signature through him?"

Harry clenched his fingers so tightly he drew blood. Hate flooded through him, yet he did not show it. With an impassive face he walked towards the Sorting Hat. Even the goddamn professors took an interest to him!

He met Daphne's gaze of shock as he strolled to the stool, smirking at her incredulous look. The last thing he saw was the weary face of Professor McGonagall before the hat covered his gaze.

_My, my, my. Look at what we have here...Harry Potter, the elder of the Potters,_ a voice said in his mind. _Excellent Occulemency shields at such a young age, a pity it won't work on me._

_Goddamn you hat, won't Occulemency shields prevent all foreign intrusions on the mind?_

_Yes Mr. Pott-_

_Don't call me a Potter. I am not a Potter. I haven't been one for eight fucking years, hat._

The Hat shook its head sadly, _You still are in blood._

Harry let the rage course through him. _They abandoned me, you stupid hat. They left me in a loveless family where I was forced to be their slave for three years, until I finally used my magic to make them shut the fuck up. I've been cooking for myself for my entire life. I've been working my entire life. I never had a childhood, Hat, it was all pure pain because of my fucking dimwit parents. And you have the audacity to question that? Or was it the Headmaster that sent me there?_

_Calm down, Mr. Potter. No, it was not him who decided that you would go to the Dursely's. He merely did what was requested of him._

_Don't even try lecturing me._

_I am sorry, Mr. Potter, that is all I will say. But onto the Sorting now, eh? We've wasted enough time debating on your status as a Potter or not._

_Fine. Get on with it._

_Hmmm...you have great bravery, but not so much it borders on foolishness. Rather unlike your kin. Loyal, but only to the ones that deserve it, and you will drop it if needed. Very hard working, diligent, and you believe knowledge is a key component in power. But your ambition and cunning is just as great, if not greater._

Harry inwardly sneered, _Can't decide Hat?_

_And...what's this? Your magical core is right now about half the size of Dumbledore's, and its still growing quite rapidly. Your multiple powers have not awakened yet, but don't worry, they soon will. You have a great future, Mr. Potter. You will become great_, the Hat said solemnly.

It continued, _Your hate yet your wish to be recognized by your parents is admirable, but I will leave you with a warning. Hate is a powerful tool, and for you, it is a good thing. Never let go of it, because there will always be some that you can never forgive. But never let it control you either. Mr. Potter, you will become great in..._

"SLYTHERIN!"

_Before you leave Mr. Potter, I will add a piece of advice. Go to Gringott's in the summer and do an Inheritance Test to unlock your powers. Good luck. The next couple decades will be very interesting with you..._

The Hat was suddenly raised off his head, and Harry blinked rapidly in the re-exposure to the light. He looked around, and saw awed silence. Never before had a Potter been sorted into Slytherin.

Harry glared at the closest gaping students, causing them to look down, fearful. He stalked over to the leftmost table before sitting down next to Daphne.

Daphne whispered to him, "I had no idea you were a Potter."

She frowned, then added, "I can see why you didn't want to give your last name. But its ok, I won't judge you for it, though others will."

Harry gave a small smile in his thanks.

The two watched the next few Sortings in silence, the applause subdued due to the Sorting of Harry. He watched impassively as the twins were sorted into Gryffindor.

Finally, there was one left.

"Zabini, Blaise!"

The dark skinned boy stalked up to the stool. The Hat barely touched its head before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

The green and silver table erupted in polite applause as Blaise walked over to Harry and Daphne. Harry greeted him with an inclination of his head, Blaise returning the gesture.

Before anyone could engage Harry in conversation on his newly identified last name, the Headmaster stood.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

With that the Headmaster sat back down onto his chair and began to eat.

Harry raised an eyebrow before asking Blaise, "Is the headmaster always like that?"

"Yep. He may seem barmy, but my father said that behind that mask he's as scary as fuck."

Harry gave a calculating look at Professor Dumbledore before returning to his food. The old man hid it well, but the grandfatherly look was too friendly to be a legitimate character. He would never be manipulated by such a man, even if his intentions were good.

The banquet passed by quickly, with Harry bombarded with questions from others in his house. In all, Harry's impression of Hogwarts was middling.

At the end of the feast, the Headmaster stood. "Now that you have all been fed and watered, it is time for our school song! On a count of three please...one...two...three!"

Harry scoffed as ribbons flew out of Dumbledore's wand, forming into words, the lyrics. He didn't bother to read them as most of the school sang, each to his or her own tune and tempo.

"Excellent! Most excellent!" cried Dumbledore after the song had mostly ended, pointedly ignoring the Weasley twins who were singing at a funeral choir pace. The Headmaster wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes. "Every year it brings a smile to my face. Off you go to bed now! Good night everyone!"

With that, the feast broke up. Two burly prefects, one male and the other female, growled menacingly, "Follow us. Keep in order!"

Then the prefects as well as other upper years made their way down to the dungeons, to a seemingly blank part of a wall.

"Pureblood," barked the male prefect.

The "wall" suddenly opened inwards, eliciting squeaks from the less knowledgable first years. The older students merely glared at them before stepping in.

Harry walked through the opening to meet a hostile at best description

"Good evening, fellow Slytherins. For those of you who are new to here, welcome to the noble house of Slytherin, the house of cunning and ambition. I am here to introduce you the rules of the Slytherin house. The first of which is that we are all Snakes. If one of us needs help, you help them."

The prefect droned on and on until he finally said, "Now, to Professor Snape."

A greasy haired, sallow faced man stalked into the room, his mere presence enforcing strictness and discipline. Those who had previously dared to whisper to their neighbors were now as silent as the others.

"Welcome to Slytherin," Snape spoke silkily. "Here, we have high expectations that some of you may not meet, and therefore, will be punished."

His eyes focused on Harry for a moment and the young wizard could feel pressure on his Occulemency shields. Harry held out, however, if only just.

Snape continued. "However, there is no need to fear, as we are a house where everyone helps everyone. It does not impose the obligations of friendship on one another, but here we treat everyone with the proper respect."

The Potions Master continued his speech, going over already well-known rules, judging by the bored looks of the upper-years, until the Professor bid them good night.

"Boys on the left, girls on the right!" a prefect said. "Go to the dorm room with your corresponding year, get a bunk, and sleep. You'll need it."

Harry bade good night to Daphne and trudged up the steps, Blaise following. Harry opened the door with a large silver 1 emblazoned on it. He chose a bunk on the right side, ignoring the chattering of his fellow Slytherins, and warded it with a few nasty jinxes. Tired after a long day, Harry crashed on the bed, getting the best sleep he had in ages, ready for the new school year to start.

* * *

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Summer Camp with 2 AP level courses isn't fun and they monitor the computers so...yeah.**

**Drop a Review or just Follow/Favorite.**

**-The Teutonic Knight**


	4. Chapter 4: Year 1 and 2

**AN: Hello everyone. This is a rather short chapter, I'll warn you. Its mostly filler, and I detest filler.**

**Moving on, drop a review or follow it. Or favorite it. **

**I am going to start on one other story. It will have a sizable element overlap with "Harry Potter and the Cursed Summer"**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

_The man walked quickly,yet his footsteps were barely audible in the chaos around him. Children smiled and laughed, dressed in outlandish costumes that purely served to amuse him._

_Oh, if only he could put an end to this foolishness. He smiled evilly, hand straying closely to a bone-white wand. An innocent child drew closer joyful, laughter emanating from his mouth. The Dark Lord shook is head._

_Tonight, this lucky boy would be spared. He had a much more important mission to accomplish tonight._

_He soon reached a more deserted area where, if a normal person was there, would only see an empty lot of land, still waiting to be bought._

_He grinned manically. Thanks to the pathetic specimen of a rat, he could see light coming from a small window. He looked through it, to see only furniture. He growled. It wouldn't do if the Potter's were gone at the night. He could not be denied of his prey tonight!_

_The Dark Lord pushed past the oiled gate and continued. His wand rose from the folds of his robes and flicked once._

_A beam of energy flew rapidly and hit the door, shattering it. Splinters of red oak flew everywhere, the few pieces of shrapnel that sped towards the Dark Lord stopped with a shield. Kicking past the remains, he glanced around him to note..._

_Nothing. No one. He howled in rage._

_Then he stopped. Faintly, he heard crying from upstairs. The Dark Lord smiled once more._

_He turned and stalked up the steps._

_Today._

_Today was the day that he triumphed. At last, the boy of the prophecy was to be destroyed._

_At last._

_He turned the corner in the direction of the crying, where in the glow of a small lamp he saw a crib and a young three year old trying frantically to stop the crying._

_The Dark Lord smirked. "So what do we have here? Daniel Potter, the boy with the at most mediocre magical core. And then Harry Potter. The eldest Potter child. A boy...if the prophecy is correct, has the power of an Ancient."_

_The small boy quivered but stood defiantly. "Go away, you evil wizard. My mommy told me to protect my brother at all costs. And I will."_

_The Dark Lord cackled. "A three year old speaking coherently? Its obvious that it is not the puny speck of dust you call a brother is the boy of the prophecy, but you!" He laughed at the widening of the boy's eyes. "You have been deceived, young Potter, and for that mistake, you have been condemned to death. Avada Kedavra!"_

_The sickly green glow of the Killing Curse lit the room as it traveled at breakneck speed towards the eldest Potter child. The Dark Lord's eyes were filled with glee as he saw it about to hit him, about to steal the soul of the child and banish to the Underworld when his glee turned to horror._

_The child, a mere child, had his arms extended, a golden shield forming, battling against the natural evil taint of the Killing Curse._

_The Dark Lord panicked. He saw the will behind his curse failing, faltering, the child's unwavering and strong. He felt sweat pour down his face as he fueled more of his hate, his anger, his malice into the spell. _

_But to no avail. With an inhuman howl, the Dark Lord was thrown back into a wall, the magical backlash destroying the room and throwing the combatants away from one another. _

_Voldemort glanced up, horrified as he saw his own Killing Curse reflected back at his own self, the green light filling his vision and he knew no more._

_However, due to his instruments of immortality, the soul of the Dark Lord was not fully destroyed that day and he lived on._

_While Harry Potter lay on the floor, a lightning scar on his forehead, his brother Daniel Potter was christened as the Boy-Who-Lived. Daniel's name was instantly famous, Harry's forgotten..._

* * *

_I promise you Potter, I will find you, and I WILL have my revenge..._

Harry sprung from his bunk wand at the ready, gasping. Sweat poured down his body, and he kept at his alert state until he remember where he was.

Hogwarts.

Harry relaxed and fell back on his bed. He glanced next to him. Blaise was snoring away, drool dripping on his chin. He couldn't help but smirk at Blaise's facial expression that he made when sleeping.

Shaking his head, he took a brief look at his watch. Three fifteen.

Damn.

He rose silently from bed, not wanting to wake up his roomate and slipped downstairs, but not before taking a peek in a room where there seemed to be strange noises that sounded quite...animalistic. He quickly looked away, a blush forming on his faces at the scene he witnessed.

He strolled down the stairs into the common room, before sliding out the exit gracefully.

Harry stalked through the corridors, silent and careful not to wake the current occupants of the paintings.

For the next two hours, he wandered the castle, making himself familiar with it. He had nearly been caught by the filthy caretaker once, but with his superior stealth skills, he managed to escape.

Finally, it was six o clock, and Harry headed for the Great Hall for breakfast. There, he was greeted by one or two fangirls of his brother, whom he roughly pushed past and headed for the Head Table, where he was to receive his schedule.

"Professor Snape."

The dour faced man looked at him briefly. "Here, Mr. Potter."

Harry could here the slight condescension Snape put in his last name, but he did not mention it. He bit down the retort that rose up and prepared to receive his schedule.

Right as Snape was handing the schedule to him, the piece of paper instead flew into the air, high above the head of the first year. Harry turned, and his eyes focused on a group of Slytherin fifth years snickering, one of them moving his wand around.

Without saying a word, Harry extended his hand, and the piece of paper flew into his hand. The magical backlash caused the other boy to stumble backwards violently and fall flat on his ass.

Smirking back at the dunderheads, he walked back to his table and proceeded to eat in silence. He looked up briefly when Daphne and Tracey sat down beside him, with a yawning Blaise trailing closely behind.

"Good Morning, Potter." the two girls said in near unison.

"Greengrass, Davies." Harry nodded.

"What? No greetings for me Potter? I'm hurt." Blaise feigned indignation.

Harry smiled wickedly. "Not for you. Do you know how loud you snore? It pretty much woke me up."

Leaving a spluttering Blaise attempting to deny the accusation and the two girls smirking, he briefly looked at the schedule and returned to his food.

He had to get ready for his first class...

* * *

_Two years later..._

Harry sat in the empty compartment, wandlessly casting the same locking charm he used on the first train ride. He grinned as he remembered meeting Blaise, Tracey, and Daphne on the train. Remembered being Sorted into Slytherin, against everyone's expectations. Becoming first in the class.

Not to mention that summer, he discovered that his wand was not tracked by the Ministry.

And the second year. He had tried out for Chaser, like his biological father, and, though Harry hated to admit it, seemed to have a natural talent for the sport.

Luckily for him, it easily surpassed his father's.

Second year passed by just as quickly. Slytherin had won both the Quidditch and House Cup for the first time in eight years.

Harry smiled again. The final game of the year was fast paced and exciting, between the two ancient rivals.

The Slytherins had a far superior Chaser team, and were crushing the Gryffindors.

Unfortunately, Gryffindor had the best Seeker the had for a century: Charlie Weasley.

The score was 20-170 when Charlie finally spotted the Snitch.

In the shot of a lifetime, Harry had bicycle kicked the Quaffle from one end of the pitch to the other, scoring a second before Charlie caught the Snitch.

The silence lasted for about a minute before a quarter of the Quidditch Field erupted into wild cheers while the other three quarters groaned in disappointment.

The party in the common room afterwards in his honor drove him away, as he felt uncomfortable with the limelight on him.

But alas, he housemates would not be denied and he was dragged back to the common room, much to the amusement of Blaise.

And now it was summer once more.

It was a pity that next year, the dumbfuck of his brother would be here. It was a pity that the entire affair of the Boy-Who-Lived would come once more. It was a pity that his rather enjoyable experiences at Hogwarts might be turned around, all because of his brother.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the compartment door. Harry looked up, Occulemency shields slamming upwards, and relaxed when he saw the intruders were none other than his three friends.

He had had enough of the fangirls that shamelessly threw themselves at his feet.

And he was bloody only twelve years old!

Harry waved his left hand, automatically unlocking and opening the compartment door. As soon as Blaise had stepped in, the door slammed shut and locked itself, to the chagrin of the fangirls staring at him outside.

"Too popular for your own good, Potter?"

Not missing a beat, he replied, "Jealous Zabini? I know for one that your mother sleeps with men and then kills them. I didn't know you would go so far to Imperius your mother to do that for popularity, but then again, you're just a jealous dumbass."

The two laughed while the girls just shook their heads in amusement. The two years they foursome spent together had transformed them from mere acquaintances to rather close friends.

In fact, Harry was forced to admit that he had no other friends than the three in front of him.

The hours spent on the train passed by quickly, with the group making small talk on their respective summer.

Harry smiled inwardly, remembering his plan to go to Gringott's as the Sorting Hat had told him and get an Inheritance Test.

It was a pity that even with all the Galleons he had saved, there was simply not enough for him to pay for one.

He didn't want to pressure the Durselys more than he needed too, as he had done so enough in the past years.

Harry closed his eyes, a slight smile on his face as he nodded off to sleep.

When the train finally halted at 9¾, he was woken by Blaise. The two parted ways after a brief goodbye. A second later, a goodbye to Tracey and Daphne was made, and the young wizard stalked off past the barrier.

An awkward ride home, and Harry found himself standing at his surrogate home.

"Ok boy. Do you need anything? Petunia and I would prefer not to be disturbed." Vernon said in a respectful tone.

"Its OK Uncle. I promise I'll try not to disturb you guys. Just leave me alone."

Vernon nodded before carrying his suitcase inside.

Harry sighed as he collapsed on his bed. A few swishes and flicks of his wand, and his room magically expanded to the size of the Great Hall. A few more, and stylish furniture was conjured on one side of the room, a small cooking area in the corner with a pantry, and a dueling area in the very center.

"_Golem vires quoque aequari_," Harry murmured, eyes shut in deep concentration. Light sweat fringed his hair as he poured more magic into his creation.

A lump of stone slowly transformed into a creature that looked just like Harry did, but with one startling change; its eyes were pure black.

Harry smiled at his creation. He waved his wand at the door, a Silencing Ward popping in existence. With a downward slash, a powerful Stunning Spell hurtled towards the golem.

It simply flicked its wand sideways, dispelling the jinx.

Harry grinned. It would be a long summer.

* * *

_The golem, surprising Harry, charged at him. He was forced to defend himself as the golem swung its fists. Harry broke a sweat. Maybe this was going to be harder than he initially thought..._

* * *

_Harry was distracted as a hook slammed his chin to his right. He dimly felt the explosion beneath him as he was sent hurtling across the room._

_He looked up to see the golem grin wickedly and sent a massive jet of flame towards him. In panic, he raised his arm instinctively._

_Suddenly he was surrounded by dark clouds and water, thunder rumbling. Harry flung his arm out, water flowing everywhere, the clouds following. _

_A snap of his wrist, and the raging tempest went against the inferno._

_Within a second, the flame was beat. Yet the storm did not falter. The water continued towards the golem, swamping it, trapping it, forcing it beneath the water. The storm clouds rumbled ominously, before sending a strike of lightning that flashed brilliantly before dying down._

_Harry could see the golem shriek in its death throes before exploding. Exhausted, he fell to the ground, and the storm was called back into his palm._

* * *

_Yet before darkness overtook him, he couldn't help but think that his newfound power was, practically speaking, badass..._

_He had the advantage! A left hook to the golems kidneys the slightest twisting of his head to avoid a counter straight, a reverse hook to the head._

_Ducking under a powerful horizontal strike, he grabbed the golem's head and twisted it, flipping it over. He smashed the golem's face for what seemed forever. Harry saw the golem's eyes close and it stop struggling._

_Only then, did he stop._

_He had beat it! He had beat the golem in hand to hand fighting. It had taken him the entire summer, but he had done it..._

* * *

Diagon Alley, as usual. Harry ventured into an old bookstore, where he had bought several obscure books on Animagus transformations, Poisons, as well as Legilimency.

He had mastered Occulemency to a level that few had reached, yet he knew near nothing on its counterpart.

He left the bookstore, a hood cloaking his face. It was good that he was exceptionally tall for a thirteen year old, a solid 5'5''. He doubted that a soul would recognize him at the train.

His unusually good mood was ruined by the appearance of his parents, brother, and a miniature army of reporters. His eyes narrowed as he spotted his family, whom he had not seen for a decade.

One decade.

10 years.

He slammed his Occulemency shields down, forcing his emotions away as he passed them. But he made sure to shove past his father before disappearing into the midst of the crowd.

Family.

He would make sure that they would pay.

For flaunting it in his face.

Oh would he make them pay...

* * *

**AN: Well, that's it for now. My new story will be up soon, but I doubt it'd be as good as the story its based off of...**

**Drop a review, or follow/favorite**

**Response to one Hadrian Malfoy...**

**Well, we'll see about Malfoy. I still don't know what I'll do with him. Prob make him a misguided yet good guy. We'll see.**

**Signing off,**

**The Teutonic Knight**


	5. Chapter 5: First Half of Third Year

**AN: Hello! Unfortunately, I have not gone to post the new story yet, as its quite complex.**

**Well, on to the next chapter.**

* * *

**23 August 1991**

Harry walked to the entrance of Knockturn Alley, the shadier part of Diagon. He pulled the cloaks hood over him, and the faint glimmer of runes was seen as his face was concealed.

Then, making sure that no one was trailing him, he slipped into Knockturn, cloak billowing behind him.

The alley was dimly lit by a few lanterns. Wizards and witches, each hiding their identity with a multitude of spells and runic clusters, bustled by one another. A few stopped to talk briefly with one another.

Harry entered a pub, his muscular 5'7 frame satisfactory enough to pass off as an adult wizard. He flipped the bartender a Galleon and asked for light beer, telling him to keep the change, and then settled in a dark corner.

Concentrating, he began to eavesdrop on the conversations around him.

He didn't here much at first, only the shady dealings of Basilisk Venom as well as illegal imports of substandard wands from China. But then, something caught his attention.

"...and from Albania no less! He's beginning to move again, Robards. My mark...it's twitching. Once, it faded away, nothing much more than a blob that looked like a bruise. But now...now, it moves! It begins to take on its shape once more!"

"Shut it, Barton. There's no need to act like a fool right now. We will wait. We will see. And if our Lord rises once more, then so be it."

Harry's eyes snapped open, his breath nearly imperceptibly faster and more panicked.

The Dark Lord was rising once more.

He shook his head, bringing himself to his senses. Harry rose and strode out the door.

He had work to do.

Ten minutes found Harry in front of Borgin and Burkes, where one Mr. Lucius Malfoy had slipped into moments before. The slippery politician was certain that no one was following him, the arrogant shit.

Unlike Malfoy, Harry waved his wand once, making sure that no presence inhabited the street, before entering the black magic antique shop. He snapped his fingers, and his presence was masked, his clothes and face turning invisible, shoes soundless, and invisible to the homunum relivio charm.

"Do you feel it too? The mark...its growing. Not substantially, but enough to be noticed. Things are stirring again, and we may soon have to take on our former role."

"What have you heard of him, Lucius?"

"All I know is that he has an agent. An agent that will find and kill the Boy-Who-Lived!"

Harry had heard enough. There was danger, and it would be close.

He would have to protect his filth of a brother.

Not for blood's sake.

For a promise.

* * *

Harry bodily shoved a reporter away from the entrance of the Hogwarts Express.

Bloody reporters.

He snarled at another attempting to interview him on the Boy-Who-Lived's entrance to Hogwarts.

"I said, no comment you ugly fucker!"

Next to him, Blaise was running into the same problem

Harry merely smirked before turning back to his own thoughts.

It seemed as if relations between Blaise and him were getting colder, more distant. Over the past year, Harry had caught Blaise making snide comments behind him, and with disturbing frequency, directly as well.

Though Harry did do his best to ignore them.

The two "friends," boarded the train, giving cold stares to those that blocked the entrance. The train was empty, as most of the crowd sought to catch a glimpse at the Savior of the Wizarding World.

Harry strode into the nearest empty compartment, waving his hand twice. The door slammed shut and locked.

Blaise smirked. "You still haven't taught me that, nor have you told me how to do it."

"And I never will," Harry countered.

An awkward silence fell over the compartment until their two female friends knocked.

Harry couldn't help but notice that the two witches were turning into rather attractive witches. Daphne's raven black hair fell down to the small of her back, with ocean blue eyes and smooth flawless skin. Tracey, on the other hand, had long curled blond hair falling in waves around her face with her wide hazel eyes and her slightly tanner complexion.

Harry glanced sideways, smirking at Blaise's equally appraising look at the witches, before the four friends greeted one another.

The train ride passed quickly, with a few interruptions such as attempted entry from a white blond and his two flunkies, much to Harry's amusement. The effectiveness of the locking charm was undisputed.

Finally, once the train had stopped, the quartet went the carriages.

"I always wondered what made these carriages move," Tracey mused.

"Thestrals. Creatures that can only be seen by those who have seen death," Harry said quietly. "They're often misunderstood as dark creatures, but rather, they are just shades. Mourning for the dead."

The tone of the conversation was rather downcast for the rest of the trip. The four filed quietly into the Great Hall, amidst animated talking, and sat at the Slytherin Table, waiting for the Sorting to begin.

"I wonder what house your brother will be in, Harry."

The young wizard sneered. "Like his _predecessors_, probably Gryffindor, though he'll have to beg his ass off just to get there. Hell, he should get into Hufflepuff, though he'll only be there because of his lack of talent in anything else but laziness."

Right on cue, the doors of the Great Hall dramatically burst open with Professor McGonagall and the first years entering the Hall. Harry rolled his eyes at the wide-eyed first years, pushing the memories of himself being as such away from him.

Dumbledore stood onto his podium, beaming, and said, "Let the Sorting Begin!"

"Abbot, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry turned away from the Sorting, frowning slightly as he saw Blaise flirt with Daphne in a subtle manner before he felt a slight tingling of a Legilimency Probe. Harry's eyes snapped shut as he sought the attack.

The small assault suddenly turned dangerous, with the precision and brutality of a master Legilimens against Harry's formidable Occulemency shields.

Eyebrows furrowed, Harry managed to corner the assault and trap it, replaying the brutal memory of the golem he had used earlier in the summer smashing his face in, over and over again.

On the Head Table, a purple turbaned professor gasped in pain, before clutching his head and swearing profusely, to the anger of Pomona Sprout.

Finally, he released the probe. Gasping, he opened his eyes once more as he heard a familiar name.

"Potter, Daniel!"

Again, whispers broke throughout the Hall. Harry smirked when he heard some references more to Harry then the Daniel, as Harry was already a legend throughout Hogwarts.

A rather shorter, baby-fat filled boy sprung up to the stool with an arrogant smirk.

Harry glared, for it was the smirk of those who had oppressed him.

Arrogance.

Hubris.

He detested those traits.

Glancing at the Head Table, he saw Snape glaring in much the same way.

He looked back at the Sorting Hat, where it was seemingly arguing with the younger Potter.

Multiple times, it seemed as if the Sorting Hat was forming an "hu" sound, but it was quickly stopped and finally said, "Gryffindor."

Without much enthusiasm, Harry noticed.

Not that the Gryffindor table cared. They started screaming and cheering and yelling and doing a ridiculous amount of shit antics.

In fact, the only people that didn't seem enthusiastic about it were the Weasley Twins.

Harry grinned. They were the two most tolerable people in Gryffindor, next to a few others, like the rather attractive Chaser Adriana Simmons. The Twins had actually become good friends in the past two years, their playfulness and skill in pranks, as well as their ingenuity was hard to come by.

Not to mention their potential for allies was great.

The Slytherins descended the steps after the feast, and Harry promptly fell asleep on his bunk, ready for the coming day...

* * *

_You think you're safe, Harry Potter?_

_I lurk in the shadows now, but I will rise once more._

_The face's eyes opened. _

_You WILL DIE Harry James Potter, and I will take everything, and everyone dear to you._

_Harry could only watch in horror as he saw Hogwarts burning, as he saw the Professors tortured and killed._

_Students raped and tortured._

_A green skull with a snake floating high into the night._

_He saw Tracey Davis fall to a Killing Curse, from Blaise's wand._

_He saw Daphne smile cruelly before torturing Dumbledore._

_He saw Voldemort fire a Killing Curse, the bright green jet heading towards him once more._

_You will FAIL, Harry Potter!_

Harry sprung from his bed, wand at the ready.

He heard nothing but silence. Harry fell back onto his bed, waving his hand and murmuring, "_Tempus._"

4:43 AM

Harry sighed. Every night. The same dream. Over and over again.

He grunted and heaved himself off his bed. Silently, he dressed into his school clothes before slipping out into the empty castle.

The dungeons were silent, though Harry could hear the slight dripping of water. He traveled briskly up the many flights of stairs and to the east of the castle, avoiding Filch and the caretaker's mangy cat by taking a shortcut.

Harry found himself on the western wall of the castle, gazing silently at the quiet night and at the horizon, where the sun was sure to come.

Soon enough, rays of light came from the eastern horizon, but it was not the normal bright yellow and orange Harry was used to seeing. It was red, blood-red, casting its foreboding glare on the castle.

Harry soon left the castle, troubled. It was an ancient sign, yet it was true in every respect that it preceded bloodshed and trouble.

The blood red sun had long been dismissed as mere superstition and myth, even by the Wizarding World, but it was not.

The last time the red sun had risen over Britain, according the the Department of Mysteries declassified records, was when Voldemort had openly declared war on the British Ministry of Magic.

A rather troubling thought.

Harry strolled into the Great Hall, briefly scanning his schedule.

Potions with the Gryffindors, Charms with the Ravenclaws, Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. DADA with the Gryffindors, Ancient Runes with the Ravenclaws, the list went on and on, to Harry's annoyance.

If only he didn't let Daphne influence him to take Runes as well as Arithmancy, then he would have much more free time.

Thank god that he was already extraordinarily advanced in both subjects.

Harry sat down to eat, ignoring a few people attempting to chat him up and mentally preparing himself for the day.

Potions passed slowly, as there was nothing better than the most feared teacher in the school breathing down your neck in the morning.

However, since Harry always had flawless potions and he was a Slytherin, there was little to worry about.

However, his brother did not share his qualities, and in the first week, Gryffindor had lost one hundred and twenty points due to talking back to Snape.

Charms was easy, as he was easily Flitwick's favorite student.

First in his year, every year, and setting exam records was more than enough for Flitwick to overcome his slightly negative view of the Slytherin House and turn Harry into someone that Flitwick eagerly wanted to see every day.

The same was said of Professor McGonagall. However, Harry did suspect the favoritism was also initially based on pity from his abandonment from the Potters.

He sat in Arithmancy, taught by one Professor Septimus Vector, and listened to the beginning lecture.

"Arithmancy is the most important component in the creation of spells, though it also influences positioning of manors, astronomy, and runes. In this year, we will cover Snifgrot's Eight Laws of Arithmancy as well as the Grasin's Rule on powerful magical numbers. For example, Grasin's rule states that only odd primes are magically powerful, and that these primes cannot immediately follow one another."

Harry groaned as he he heard the fast scratching of Daphne's quill. Reluctantly, he pulled out his own, and began to write.

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

**31 October 1991**

Harry stalked through the halls of Hogwarts, in a dark mood.

Ten years ago, the Dark Lord had attacked the manor.

Ten years ago, he was sent away.

And he bloody saved their lives!

Harry snarled as he turned a corner and entered the Great Hall momentarily to grab a slice of pumpkin pie before storming off.

Those who were in his way quickly fled. Harry's temper, which was rarely roused, was legendary throughout Hogwarts. Snape himself had backed down once, and that was enough for the rumor mill to exaggerate the confrontation and make sure that not a soul dared insult him.

Not any sane soul that is.

"Hey Harry!"

Harry glanced at Daphne and gave her a small, tight smile. He repeated the same action with Tracey and nodded at Blaise.

"How are you all this _fine_ evening?" Harry said, slight venom in his voice. "The day where our great Boy-Who-Lived vanquished the deadly and powerful Dark Lord Voldemort."

He shook his head before engaging the other three in conversation. "How do you feel about McGongall's homework load this year? Two feet on Graspnur's Fourth Law of Transfiguration." Harry rolled his eyes. "As if we don't have enough this year."

Daphne smirked. "Wait till we get to OWL year. If you can't stand the homework load right now, then you're royally screwed for fifth year."

Before Harry could retort, a panicked shout broke out at the entrance of the hall.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" Quirrell cried, sweat pouring down his pale face. With that, he fainted...forwards.

Harry suspiciously eyed the downed Defense teacher. Who faints forwards?

The Great Hall erupted into chaos. There were screams, shouts, shrieks, people praying, laughing, crying, and an assortment of other unpleasant actions. Harry rolled his eyes before standing up, disgusted.

As the Slytherin House walked out, Harry overheard his younger brother whisper, "Ron! Isn't Hermione still in the girls bathroom? We have to warn her!"

"Serves the bloody know-it-all right!" Ron said, though he looked uncomfortable.

"C'mon Ron! We can't let this just happen!"

The two slipped off in the direction of the bathrooms, and Harry, obligated to keep his brother from getting killed, followed.

Harry turned the corner just in time to see a huge hulking mass of grey and brow enter the girls's bathroom.

Harry cursed his luck. His oaf of a brother just had to run into trouble in his second month at Hogwarts. Bloody Gryffindors.

He gracefully slipped into the bathroom, side stepping an airborne Ronald Weasley. Harry watched dispassionately as the youngest Weasley son crumpled against the wall, moaning.

Daniel Potter, on the other hand, managed to cast a weak Stunner at the troll. The troll-hide, being highly spell resistant, absorbed the jinx. The "Boy-Who-Lived"yelped in fear as the massive troll picked up the rotund boy and stared stupidly at him.

Harry would've preferred leaving his idiot brother hanging there, but sadly, that would not be good if he was caught laughing at a troll beating his brother.

He flicked his wand into his hand and swung it upwards, sending a strong Piercing Curse straight into the troll's wrist.

It howled in pain before dropping Daniel. Harry waved his hand as a Cushioning Charm hit the floor where his brother had landed.

The troll now had its full attention on Harry.

And it was rather pissed.

It charged at him, club raised high. Harry simply waited there as the club swung down before his body bent backwards, the spikes missing him by mere centimeters.

Immediately, he rose back up, a silent Reductor Curse flying from his wand.

The curse hit the club, causing the weapon to explode in thousands of splinters. As the troll looked at the stump of its former weapon, Harry yelled at his brother, "Move! Bring Granger and Weasley out too! Dammit, MOVE!"

The youngest Potter just stared at Harry, before flying out of the way, the troll's fist smashing the place he was a second before. Harry glared at Daniel. "Next time, I'll let you get smashed. Now get the hell out of here!"

Finally, Daniel snapped out of his reverie and dragged the comatose forms of Granger and Weasely out of the bathroom.

"_Erysieplas_!"

Holy fire erupted from the Elder Wand, burning the dark creature's skin. It struggled forwards, inching its way towards the third year. Growling, Harry released the spell and, after casting a spell that protected against heat, slid beneath the howling troll's legs.

Turning promptly around, he began a complex incantation. "C_aveam ferrum infrangibile et sacer ignis jacul_."

The troll was suddenly encased in a slowly forming cage of steel, with spikes of the same holy fire forcing themselves into its body. Harry poured more magic into it, sweating profusely and eyes tight in concentration, before he released the spell.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the troll was completely encased in the magical cage, screaming itself hoarse in the pain.

Harry pitied it for a moment, but knew that he had no other choice. He limped outside, ignoring the wide-eyed "Boy-Who-Lived."

"How'd did you do that? That was so cool! Wow! Can you teach me?"

Harry turned around swiftly, the look on his face cold and icy. He flicked his wand out.

"_Obliviate_!"

* * *

**25 December 1991**

The weeks had turned into months, and the professors had still not found the person responsible for the imprisonment of the troll.

And thats the way Harry preferred it to be.

It was the end of the semester, and Harry had finished it, as usual, by setting exam records.

Tracey had opted to go home for the Break, but Blaise and Daphne stayed, the Italian boy due to his parent's request and Daphne because her family was staying at the Malfoy's.

And Harry simply because he had always spent Christmas alone.

He could still remember the first Christmas after the Dark Lord incident.

The laughing. The playing. The cheeriness.

The pain.

Harry turned the corner, on the final corridor to the entrance of the Slytherin Common Rooms. It was approaching curfew, and Harry simply just did not feel like avoiding Filch on Christmas Day.

That in its own self was depressing.

As he walked down the corridor, he pulled out his report card with a smile.

Like every year before, it was top marks.

_Hogwarts Report Card for Harry James Potter_

_Arithmancy: O *_

_Ancient Runes: O *_

_Astronomy: O *_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: O *_

_Potions: O *_

_Transfiguration: O *_

_Charms: O *_

_Herbology: O*_

_The * stands for a Grade Record Broken_

Harry smirked in satisfaction. At this rate, he would set a record for most Grade Records broken in the entire thousand year history of Hogwarts.

He arrived at the seemingly blank section of wall. "Cygnus Black."

The door slid open with a hiss and Harry stepped in.

He froze.

Amidst cat calls and wolf whistles, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were locked in an embrace, kissing fiercely.

* * *

**AN: Heh, that took forever.**

**I should really try and stretch out the year into more chapters. I stuffed the entire first half into a chapter, and that took longer than I wanted too.**

**Whatever.**

**So...Drop a Review of Fav/Follow.**

**Appreciate it as always,**

**The Teutonic Knight**


	6. Chapter 7: Aftermath and the Duel

**AN: Hey guy. I wrote this in a span of about two hours or so, to make up for not updating for ages before.**

**Review, or Follow/Favorite**

* * *

**25 December 1991**

Harry froze for a second.

And reality crashed on him.

He turned around, his face a calm mask, yet his emotions threatened to break through. He shook with negative emotions, and walked out of the common room.

His vision blurred, and Harry ran.

Ran away.

For the second time, he was alone. Alone once more. He stormed through the corridor, ignoring a terrified first year huddling against the wall. Harry could feel his aura being let off, a mixture of negative emotions and his extremely powerful magical core causing the air around him to heat far beyond normal temperatures.

So that's why Blaise and Daphne were hung around him less often, he thought bitterly.

Why was he like this?

He had mastered his emotions a long time before. There was no reason to feel like this.

Yet Harry knew.

It was jealousy.

Harry scoffed at himself. Jealousy? It was a ridiculous notion, argued his mind. Harry did not ever feel jealousy.

Yet he knew.

He always knew that jealousy was the underlying factor to prove himself. The reason why he studied so hard. The reason why he was so proficient at magic.

And now, the jealousy that had been lying at the core of his mind, the jealousy of seeing his brother basking in the love and warmth of his family and friends, never receiving a bit of attention, had awakened once more.

Harry knew it was petty to give into such an emotion. Yet, the hurt was still there. By the way they were proclaiming it now only proved that they had such a relationship for at least a month.

And he was the last to know? That was what hurt the most.

Because they didn't tell him, they hurt him even more.

Harry stormed into a nearby classroom, a magically-reinforced kick making the door fly literally off the hinges.

"S_ecuri Praecidit Maxima_!"

A Dark Cutting Curse flew from his wand, destroying the teacher's desk and creating a huge gash in the wall.

It was time to blow off some steam.

And, unfortunately for the classroom, it would be the target of his hatred.

* * *

Severus Snape was not an easy man to impress.

Years of seeing incompetence in his students helped refine that. And though a few students showed a little potential, there were none that truly gained Severus's respect.

That is, until he met Harry Potter.

The elder Potter brother.

Normally, Snape hated anyone with the surname. It served only to force unpleasant memories into his head, memories that he preferred remain dormant.

Yet, this Harry Potter was an enigma. He remembered seeing the cold face of the child during the Sorting, and his nearly supernatural control over his emotions.

Snape recalled his shock at the eldest Potter son being sorted into Slytherin. And the shock of creating an NEWT level potion in his free time: the Animagus Revealing Potion.

A little snooping also revealed his unnatural talent at other subjects.

The Potions Master shook his head. It was only in the past few months, however, that Snape had seen Harry Potter perform feats unimaginable for a mere thirteen year old.

During the first Quidditch match of the season, when Daniel Potter's broom was under the Hurling Hex, that Snape noticed something unusual.

He was attempting to counter the hex's effects, when the dark hex stopped. Looking around in confusion, he saw Quirrell on the ground clutching his head, eventually throwing up and nearly collapsing.

Snape had looked around and seen the icy green eyes of Harry Potter focuses intensely on Quirrell, until he stumbled backwards a bit.

The master Occulemens knew the signs of a Legilimency attack as well as an Occulemency pushout. And the signs at the Quidditch match was enough to raise suspicions.

The cage during the Troll Incident was a piece of extraordinarily advanced magic, and by scanning Daniel Potter's memory, had found very very slight anomalies.

Not to mention the fast swirl of movement he had briefly seen at the scene. And also include the fact that the eldest Potter son had appeared late to the common room, according to Draco.

The was startled out of his musings by an alarm, set off by a Magical Detection Rune. Snape narrowed his eyes. Who on earth would be in one of the dungeon classrooms at curfew.

The Potions Master stalked down the corridor, preparing to give detention to the idiot student who was out at such a time, when he heard something that sounded suspiciously like muffled spell fire. He pulled out his wand, as he could be walking into a duel.

His eyes opened in alarm as he saw the door hanging by on hinge. He had to be careful...

Softly, he crept up to the edge of the door, before entering, wand at the ready.

The scene in front of him shocked him to the core.

One Harry Potter was dueling against lumpy enemies, with facial features that matched those of Blaise Zabini, the Potter Family, excluding Harry of course, and a face that Snape knew all too well.

The Dark Lord himself.

Snape shuddered. How did Potter know what the Dark Lord looked like? There were no photos of him, and those who had seen his face were either dead, Death Eaters, or very lucky and poweful.

Snape watched in horror as the "Dark Lord" shot cursed fire at the Harry. The student, however, merely flicked his wand, and the fire was caught into Harry's wand.

Another flick, and the fire shot out, enveloping the hasty Dark Shield conjured by Daniel Potter.

The Potions Master frowned. When did a first year learn Dark Magic?

His question was answered a second later, when Daniel Potter exploded, causing chunks of rock to fly around the room.

It was a stone golem!

Snape sidestepped a rebounding Cutting Curse, watching with interest as a Blood Boiling Curse was intercepted by a large, compact ball of water.

The young Potter shot electricity out of his hand, the Snape's utter shock, and sent the electrified ball of water at the remaining Potters. Snape winced as the golems let out unholy screams.

A second later, a tornado of sharp blades sucked Zabini-Golem up, piercing it, and pinned it to the ceiling.

There as only Dark Lord-Golem left. A Skin-Eating Curse was blocked, Dark Cutter deflected, and two vicious Chimeras incinerated by the young Potter.

Snape's eyes widened. How could a thirteen year old have this much power?

Sure, it wasn't in the league of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore, or even Snape himself yet, but Snape would have an extremely hard time yet.

And Snape was one of the best duelers in Northern Britain. He shuddered.

He watched dispassionately as chunks of iron were dispelled by the teen, before covering his eyes as Harry summoned lightning.

"F_ulmina Octo Herbae Flagellum_!"

A many pronged whip of lightning emerged from the wand, before Harry raised it over his head and sent it at the golem.

The whip shredded through the powerful shields the golem had erected before each tendril wrapped around it, eliciting terrible screams.

Snape covered his ears, and winced as Harry pulled the whip backwards, slicing the golem into many pieces. The magical backlash vaporized many of the desks in the room, before dissipating against the stone walls.

Not without leaving a mark though. The stone walls of Hogwarts were dented, and in some places had even blown part of the wall, creating a gap.

Snape slowly stood up.

"Mr. Potter?"

The teen turned around, eyes narrowed, and wand raised, before recognizing the professor.

Snape looked into the eyes, and found rage, hate, sorrow, and a multitude of negative emotions. So much of it that Snape couldn't help but take a peek.

The Potions Master entered the eldest Potter son's mind, nearly overcome by the emotions in it.

Forced to do the Dursley chores every day.

Getting hit by a frying pan.

Getting kicked by Dudley and the gang.

Growing affection for Greengrass...

Zabini and Greengrass kissing? What was this?

Hatred and jealousy, rage at being the last to know, purposefully kept in the dark.

Suddenly, Snape was thrown out forcefully.

He groaned and rubbed his head.

Snape looked up to see the cold, icy eyes and face of Harry Potter. The face no longer displayed emotion. It was just as scary, perhaps even more so.

"Using Legilimency on a minor is a Level Three offense, Professor Snape. It can lead to a maximum sentence of twelve years in Azkaban," Harry said quietly.

Snape shook his head. "I am sorry, Mr. Potter. I just found myself...curious."

"Tell me why I should not press charges Professor."

Snape sighed. "I have no excuse, Mr. Potter. I am sorry."

"I won't press charges if you swear not to tell anybody about my abilities without my express permission."

"Deal," Snape said quickly. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, do hereby swear upon my magic to not tell anybody about the true abilities of Harry James Potter without his express permission."

"So mote it be," Harry said, finishing the oath. "I will take my leave now, Professor. Good Night."

As he left, Snape called out, "70 points to Slytherin for not taking action against Mr. Zabini and Ms. Greengrass directly, and another 30 for mastering Occulemency."

He swore he saw a smile on the young Potter's face as the Slytherin left.

Snape shook his head, and began repairing the classroom.

Harry James Potter was on the rise, and he would be a fool not to help him.

* * *

**14 June 1991**

Harry was in a middling mood.

He had lost Blaise as a friend. The Italian boy had actually taunted him about their relationship and flaunted it in front of his face.

He was on speaking terms with Daphne though, and he supposed that was good.

The two of them had had a heart to heart on the Astronomy Tower on Easter Sunday, and the two's relationship began to mend after that.

Tracey was just as angry, as she had did not know that Harry was not told.

Harry had taken to wandering the castle now that Blaise and Daphne were an item.

He had met Annalisa Turpin as she was running away from a few upper year Slytherins.

They were stopped handily by Harry, who flew into a rage after hearing their motives.

Again, pureblood supremacy and inbreeding addled people's minds.

The two had become good friends, though Harry took no romantic interest in her. The two were spending more time with one another, as well as Tracey, and it was soon rumored that Harry Potter was fucking two girls.

The rumor didn't last long after one of the more foolish boys asked him what a threesome was like.

He had also befriended Joyce Liao from Ravenclaw, as well Caitlin Barberis from Gryffindor.

Harry smirked. At this rate, he might be able to start a harem.

Wait, what?

He laughed for a moment, passing the third story corridor.

Until he heard the low tones of a flute coming from inside. Harry froze, and pulled out his wand.

He heard the panicked voice of his brother, before it was cut short by what sounded suspiciously like the closing of a trapdoor.

Harry took a deep breath.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

A massive eagle sprouted from his wand.

"Tell Professor Snape to get Dumbledore and come here. The fucking Golden Trio is in the third floor corridor. Don't tell him I was there."

The Patronus flew off in the direction of the dungeons.

A silent Unlocking Charm and a push later, he saw an enormous Cerebrus staring right back at him.

The door shut behind him.

"Well, shit."

The Cerberus roared and charged at him.

Not wanting to hurt the beast, which Hagrid apparently loved, Harry took a simpler approach.

"Catch!"

An enormous fish flew out of Harry's wand. The middle head snatched, and growling at the other heads, began to eat it.

The other two heads seemed as if they wanted to kill Harry.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Here!"

Another two fish flew out and were snatched by the other two heads. Harry chuckled as they ate ravenously.

He petted their heads for a moment before continuing to the trapdoor. Harry levitated the iron bound trapdoor, but was interrupted by a multitude of whimpers.

The Cerberus was pawing the ground, three pairs of eyes downcast and each head whimpering. Harry laughed.

"Here buddies."

Three dead elk appeared on the ground, and the Cerberus, rejuvenated, started their next meal.

Harry floated down the tunnel, pausing briefly to look at the remains of Devil's Snare, and continued until he saw the door with a keyhole.

Sighing, he looked upwards, and saw a key with a bent wing, signifying that it had been victim to being forced to the lock.

"I don't have time for this," Harry muttered. "_Bombarda Maxima_!"

The spell collided with the door, destroying it with brute power, and continued onwards.

Harry floated over the chessboard, smirking at the pale face of Ronald Weasley and the trickle of blood that wound its way over the boy's head.

Idiot.

Harry landed gracefully on the other side, wrinkling his nose at a familiar smell...a troll?

He shook his head as he saw a dead troll, skull crushed, and pus leaking from the wound. It meant that someone else was down here...Quirrell, most likely.

Harry flicked his wand out. The wizard was no fool and was an expert duelist, if he recalled correctly. It would be a challenge to win against him.

He cautiously approached a raging inferno in front of him, and quite suddenly, a bushy haired girl emerged from the flames, crying.

"Granger? Are you alright?"

"Snape's about to steal the Stone! Hurry! You must stop him!"

The Stone?

Suddenly, the entire affair made sense. The old bastard asked Nicholas Flamel to let Hogwarts house the Philosopher's Stone so he could test his future weapon.

Bloody idiot.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the stupidity of Dumbledore's decision. "Sure thing, Granger."

With that, he cast a powerful Flame Freezing Charm wandlessly and strolled through the fire, much to Granger's shock.

Harry rolled his eyes when he heard, "Oy! Teach me that spell! I want to go with you!"

He repeated the same spell on the flames, took a calming breath, and entered the inferno.

* * *

Daniel Potter was frightened.

He was tied up in ropes by his non-stuttering, powerful professor, and if Quirrell discovered he had the Philosopher's Stone in his left pocket, then he would be royally screwed.

Quirrell as cackling evilly. "Welcome, Daniel Potter! I didn't expect you, of all people, to be down here tonight."

The Gryffindor puffed up and said bravely, "Why not, Quirrell. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, vanquisher of You-Know-Who, and Head of the Dark Forces League!"

The purple turbaned man began to laugh. "Who are, the Boy-Who-Lived, when you can't even say my master's name!"

"You work for-for You-Know-Who?" Daniel's eyes popped open.

"_Show him to me..._"

Daniel squeaked as he heard the voice, which seemed to come from Quirrel.

"But Master, you are not strong enough!"

"_Do it..._"

"Yes Master."

The Professor slowly started to unwrap his purple turban, and a terrible smell permeated throughout the room. Daniel whimpered.

Finally, Quirrel had the turban fully unwrapped, and he turned slowly, showing a new, alien, horrid face.

"_Daniel Potter...the fool of the British Wizards. You are no more Boy-Who-Lived then I am the Leader of the Light!_"

Daniel lost control of his bladder.

"_Such stupidity. The fool Dumbledore made a big mistake ten years ago, and look at what happened now!_ _You all will rue the day you hailed Daniel Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived, because actually, he is no-_"

The Voldemort part of Quirrell-Voldemort looked sharply to the left, towards the entrance of the chamber, and Daniel looked.

The last thing he saw was the green light of an Obliviate and the red beam of a Stunner, before he fell into darkness.

* * *

Harry strolled into the room, casting a powerful Stunner at his brother before staring cooly at Quirrel-Voldemort.

"Hello there, Tom. Long time no see, huh?"

Voldemort's face contorted. "How do you know my name? Never mind, just kill him!"

"Yes Master!"

The wizard twisted and sent a silent Incarcerous, deflected by Harry.

"Pathetic Quirrell. Everyone speaks so highly of you, and I get...this?"

Quirrell's eyes narrowed. "_Crucio_!"

Harry dove to the side, conjuring four wolves and sending them towards Quirrell. "Now now, naughty boy. No need to use Unforgiveables."

Quirrell transformed the wolves into snakes, hissing, "_Kill the boy..._"

"_Pleassse don't, cutiesss. I promise you twenty ratsss if you kill him inssstead..._"

The snakes quickly changed sides, and bolstered by an Engorging Charm, lunged at Quirrell. The professor barely managed to dodge the snakes, and, conjuring a fire whip, beheaded the reptiles.

"Shocked I'm a Parseltongue? So sorry, Tom," Harry smirked.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry ducked beneath the Killing Curse. "S_ecuri Praecidit Maxima_!"

"_Scutum Lucem_!"

A brilliant white shield absorbed the Dark Cutter.

"Nice, Tom. Never thought your servant would use a Holy Based Spell, hmm?"

A Blood Boiling Curse was the only response he got.

"Tsk tsk."

Suddenly, arms from the ground attempted to grab and restrain him. Harry back flipped through the air, twisting his body to avoid a Skin Eating Curse and blocking a Dark Cutter.

An unknown orange spell soared at him, so Harry was forced to leap away from the spell, turning his head slightly sideways to avoid a Killing Curse.

Waving his wand, Harry ripped the still present arms from the ground, and spun around quickly, obscuring himself from Voldemort's view and blocking incoming spells. Once the arms moved at a sufficient speed, he sent them flying at his enemy.

Behind the barrage, he also sent a multitude of Piercing Curses and Impediment Jinxes.

A howl of pain brought a smile to Harry's face. Once the earth arms had been blown apart, and his view of Quirrell-Voldemort was unobstructed again, he saw the wizard panting, bleeding in multiple places.

"_Fiendfyre_!"

Harry quickly conjured a huge block of compacted holy water, battling the cursed flames. Sweat poured down the two combatant's faces, the stalemate lasting for over a minute, before Harry shot a Blasting Curse wandlessly, distracting Quirrel for a moment.

As Quirrell shielded himself from the debris thrown upwards, Harry electrified the water block and sent it towards the wizard. Quirrell wasn't fast enough, and was hit, screaming in pain.

"F_ulmina Octo Herbae Flagellum_!"

The familiar eight pronged whip sprung to life, and Harry sent it at the downed wizard.

The lightning whip slashed past each shield Quirrell brought up, but Voldemort had recognized the magic Harry had used and barely managed to counter it.

But it was enough, and the magical backlash threw both of them to the back of the room.

Out of the blue, a Disarming Charm hit him, and his wand flew from his grasp.

Quirrell appeared, tired, heavily injured, yet appearing triumphant. "I've won, Potter. The true Boy-Who-Lived is no more."

Harry smirked. "You really think so?"

"_Avada Ke-_"

"_REDUCTO MAXIMA!_"

The Elder Wand snapped out from his hidden holster, a jet of brown light flying from its tip, striking Quirrell in the chest.

Quirrell choked, and looked down. A smoking crater was in chest, cauterizing his entire wound.

"Pot-Potter!"

The wizard fell to his knees.

"I am capable of much more, Voldemort. I'll see you in hell. _Diffindo_!"

Quirrell's head slid off, seperated from his body. From within it, a dark wraith emerged, flying away, away from the room, Harry's holy fire on its tail.

Harry sat down, the adrenaline leaving his body. For the first time, he noticed an ornate mirror in the center of the room. He walked over, looking at what he expected to be his own reflection.

He froze.

He saw an auburn haired woman, with bright green eyes that once looked so much like his, and a black haired, hazel eyed man with glasses. They were holding a green eyed toddler with black hair, without his lightning scar.

Out of the blue, a fist descended, smashing straight into the mirror.

Harry stood, for the second time in the year lost in his emotions.

The mirror was mocking him. Showing what could've been. What he could never be. Flaunting it in his face.

The vision of his dream so...publicly announced enraged him, yet shocked him to the core.

He looked at the inscription, sighing when he found its true meaning.

His heart's desire huh?

He came to peace when he moved on.

Once he opened his eyes, he saw something different.

A beautiful, black haired teenage girl with blue eyes, laughing with a blonde with hazel ones. Three other girls, each one a big part of his life. Each of them so much like him, lonely, with few friends, wanting to prove themselves, yet each was so different.

Harry's dream had died. His thirst to prove himself may have once been to prove himself to his parents, gain their approval, but that part had moved on.

He walked over to his brother, and pulled out the Philosopher's Stone.

"Immortality, huh?" he said to no one in particular. "No one can ever run from death. They can only face it..."

The beauty of the Stone was noticed for the last time, the light reflecting on it, a symbol of perfection, when all it was was cowardice.

"_Reducto_!"

The Stone shattered into miniscule pieces, lost to mankind forever.

Harry turned and cast an invisibility charm on himself, and, taking one last longing look at the Mirror, turned, walking past the fire barrier, past the Headmaster and the Professors that rushed in, past the troll, and out of the third room corridor, to the life that had a new purpose.

* * *

**AN: Damn I wrote that in a day, to make up for not updating. **

**Well, I could use a few Reviews.**

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**The Teutonic Knight**


	7. Chapter 7: Summer Part 1

**AN: Hey guys. My left pinkie is swollen, so I type at a much slower rate.**

**Sorry 'bout that.**

* * *

"And here comes the Slytherin Team, with their Seeker Pucey, Beaters Clons and McMorick, Keeper Malfeay, Chasers Flint and Lestor with their hotshot player from last year...Haaaaaaaaarry Potter!"

Harry flew through the air, forcing a smile on his face as he faced the cheering crowd in front of him.

Apparently, the attractiveness and skill of Harry Potter exceeded House Rivalries, as so far that some of the Gryffindors were cheering for him.

Hell, the last Quidditch match of the year was Gryffindor against Slytherin!

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts when he saw Madam Hooche raise the Quaffle, blow her whistle, and throw it high into the air.

"Immediately, Potter grabs the Quaffle and shoots off to the Gryffindor side! Ducks beneath that Bludger, past Jones and Bell, c'mon Wood save that...DAMMIT. Potter scores, 10-0 Slytherin."

Harry smirked when he saw Lee reprimanded by McGonagall.

But that smirk turned into a scowl when he saw those who occupied the guest box.

What the hell were his parents doing here?

The dark red hair of his mother and black hair of his father were distinct among the box, which only had a few other occupants.

"Potter intercepts the Quaffle again! Dammit! Weasleys, do something! Oh well, another ten points to Slytherin."

Again, Harry turned back, smiling at the cheering crowd.

At least he would be able to torment the Potters, who were probably here to show support for "Danny-Boy."

"Bell to Spinnet, to Jones to...Ouch! Bludger from Clons hits Jones. Flint takes the Quaffle, nears the goals, shoots...SAVE by Wood!"

Harry shot off to the Gryffindor side of the pitch, dodging a Bludger from Fred Weasley. Smirking, he waggled his index figure, and the smirk was returned by the Weasley Twin.

"Jones nears the middle of the Pitch, pass to Spinnet, back to Jones, back to Spinn-Gawdammit another interception by Potter! Potter ducks the two Bludgers, around Bell, shoots...damn, he scored. 30-0."

Half an hour later, the Gryffindor defense were getting slaughtered by Harry, with some contribution from Flint and Lestor.

To their credit, however, they were trying. And Harry was just too good for them.

Daniel was busy arguing with is teammates so many times that he never saw the Snitch.

Pucey, on the other hand, was just a bad Seeker.

Harry laughed as he scored yet once again, bumping the score to 170-20.

"It looks like Daniel Potter has seen the Snitch! C'mon Daniel! You gotta get it!"

Gritting his teeth, Harry swooshed off, stealing the Quaffle during a pass from Katie Bell to Alicia Spinnet.

He vaguely noticed his brother, Pucey trailing him, on the side of the Pitch, heading for the Gryffindor goal posts.

Harry ducked beneath a Bludger, observing Daniel, when he got an idea. Accelerating, he headed straight at Daniel, ignoring the collective shrieks and gasps of the audience.

* * *

In the guest box, James Potter looked on with horror. The other Potter boy, the unimportant one, was trying to kill his son. It was a pity that growing up in a separate environment only served to exacerbate the jealousy. He rose out of his seat and prepared to help save his son, his son who was valuable in defeating the Dark Lord.

He glared when he saw the smug look on the brat's face as he zoomed past Daniel, whispering something. James saw Daniel's face turn a dangerous red, and in turn made James shake in anger.

Suddenly, the elder Potter son slipped his broom in an extremely tight loop, hitting something that Daniel was reaching something and sending said object backwards. At the same time, the brat released the Quaffle, letting his broom hit the red ball with astounding force and straight into the Gryffindor right hoop.

James saw Daniel let out a scream of anger. The brat had cheated! James snarled and pulled out his wand. This would not go unpunished. Not to mention the broom had passed Daniel's arm at an unacceptable distance.

"_Reducto_!"

* * *

Harry smirked as he heard Lee Jordan say dejectedly that Potter had scored.

And Pucey had caught the Snitch a mere second later due to Harry batting the Snitch backwards, straight into Pucey's mouth.

But hey, it was still a victory! Perhaps not the best nor most elegant way to catch the Snitch though.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a brown colored spell zip towards him. Harry turned around in shock, attempting to duck beneath the incoming spell, but failed.

A second later, he felt pain in his ribs.

And he began to fall.

Harry saw the ground rush up towards him. He thought wryly to himself.

The mighty Harry Potter, who killed a host for Voldemort, the true Boy-Who-Lived, brought to his demise by a fall.

He flicked the Elder Wand out, forcing himself to slow his descent, before landing gracefully on his feet, grimacing. Harry glanced up, only to see a Cutter headed straight for him.

A simple slash of his wand dispelled, eyes narrowing as he saw and recognized his attacker.

James Potter headed for him, wand pointed out at him and moving in patterns.

Lazily, Harry deflected attack after attack, finally asking, "Are you this pathetic Potter? Trying to kill a student on Hogwarts grounds? More dense then last time we met."

He could see James growl. "You tried to murder Daniel! _Expulso_!"

This time, Harry retaliated, sending a silent Stunner that James barely managed to block. Yawning, Harry incinerated four lions that his father had conjured, before another voice entered.

"Everyone! Stop this madness at once!"

Albus Dumbledore arrived on the scene, shaking in silent anger. "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Momentarily shocked at Dumbledore's swearing, James sputtered, "He tried to kill Daniel!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure Potter. And that was enough to send a Blasting Curse at me, nearly killing me if I had not slowed the fall? Or did you forget about me after all these years, _father_?"

Dumbledore visibly recoiled, shuddering in guilt and pain.

"Fuck you! The Durselys probably pampered you like a prince!" James spat.

Harry's eyes turned icy. "I was pampered as much as your spoiled bitch of a son was abused, father."

With that, he turned his back contemptuously, not bothering argue with his father, walking towards the Slytherin edge of the Pitch.

James sneered. "_Sectumsempra_!"

The dark curse traveled in a straight line, right at Harry's back. Harry turned, the world freezing, the Elder Wand spinning in his palm. The spell splattered against the tip of Harry's wand, before said wand spat out a red curse, and, moments later, holy chains.

The spell collided with James, sending him flying across the goals, smashing directly into the posts. A second later, the chains wrapped around the man, burning through his clothes and imbedding into his skin.

It was a rather nasty holy spell, as it took a rather laborious and painful process to remove such chains.

Luckily for his father, Dumbledore was experienced enough to take such chains off without too much pain.

Without a word, Harry turned away, never faltering, not as Madam Pomfrey and other Professors surrounded him, not as reporters encumbered him, not as his teammates peppered him with questions.

Harry James Potter had become a legend at Hogwarts.

* * *

Alastor Moody was having a bad day.

First, some idiot mugger tried to beat the fuck out of him in Knockturn Alley.

Normally, Moody would actually by prancing in delight, but when the mugger, heavily bruised and broken, brought a dozen other friends...

Moody winced as he over exerted a bruised muscle.

And now here he was, at the nearest apothecary, gathering potion supplies for a nice Bruise Salve.

He didn't want to go to St. Mungos. Why waste another fifteen Galleons on a nice room and an attractive nurse to rub salve over you?

Not to mention it made assassination a lot easier.

Moody grunted as he moved forward in line, eye spinning wildly around in his head.

He froze.

Three men had just entered the shop, wands out. Moody could detect Dark Magic emanating from their left arms.

Swiftly, Moody disappeared into the corridors of the apothecary, wand out, cursing his sore muscles.

Right on cue, the three men burst into the store, hoods masking their faces.

"Everyone get their hands in the air! Right now!"

The occupants of the store immediately raised their hands, excluding Moody.

"You!" the lead man barked at the apothecary owner. "Give me all the valuable shit, as well as the Galleons in your safe!"

The owner glared, then cowered when a Killing Curse flew an inch away from his face.

"NOW, goddamit!"

Moody snorted. Low level flunkies, no doubt.

All the experienced and feared members of the Death Eaters would not stoop to stealing money.

Perhaps rare ingredients, artifacts, or books, but money was something they probably had enough of.

Moody was about to intervene, a particularly nasty Skin Piercer on his lips, when he spotted someone else.

A medium sized figure was in the darkest corner, nearly invisible to his eye, a hood over his face. Was he backup? He certainly looked as if he could be. Maybe it was a ploy, a ploy to kill him...

Suddenly, the figure stepped out into the light, silently, gracefully, like a cat, right behind the last criminal. With a twist of his arm, the Death Eater flipped over with a cry.

Moody watched, intrigued, as the figure twisted his head to avoid a punch, grabbed the arm, and threw him into a Cruciatus.

As the Death Eater tried to lift the curse, the figure crept up behind him and smashed him in the jaw, an instant knock out.

A swift kick to the chin knocked the recipient of the Cruciatus out like a light.

Moody was about to give a shout in warning when the figure turned, foot lashing back to smash the man's nose. As the Death Eater clutched his broken nose, the figure smacked the side of his head with a hook and a finisher uppercut.

The ex-Auror's eyes narrowed. The figure dragged the three criminals into a corner, and wandlessly casted an Incarcerous.

A wandless Incarcerous Jinx? Extremely impressive.

"Who are you?" he barked, stepping out from the shadows, wand out and pointed.

The figure looked up. Moody's magical eye could discern a set of piercing green eyes behind he hood.

"Going to arrest me for being a Dark Wizard, Moody?"

Moody's working eye widened slightly. For the voice that emanated from the figure was not one of a man, not yet, at least, but rather of a teen.

In a split second, Moody made a decision.

"On the contrary, I want to train you..."

Moody smugly saw that the simple statement made the boy's eyes sparkle to life.

"...On the condition that you give me your name."

The ex-Auror could feel the boy's glare fixed on him. "So what's your decision?"

The boy hesitated.

"The name is Harry Potter."

* * *

"Welcome to my place, Potter."

Harry clenched his fists. "I am no Potter but by blood, Moody."

The scarred man laughed. "You're still a Potter no matter what you do. Now let's get started!"

Moody waved his wand multiple times, deactivating numerous wards, traps, and trip jinxes.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Paranoid much?"

His soon-to-be teacher snorted. "You can never be too careful in times like these, Potter."

"In times like these?" Harry said incredulously. "This is the longest period of peace Britain has had since 1945!"

"Foolish boy!" Moody snarled. "You saw the red sun, didn't you? The Dark Lord is on the move, Potter! The Death Eaters are stirring again!"

Moody thumped Harry on the chest with his staff. "And if I don't keep those wards up, I'll be dead in a week! I put half the Dark Lord's servants in Azkaban and killed another quarter! I'd think that he would want revenge, no?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Good. Come over here."

Harry followed Moody into an enormous room, which obviously had a Room Expansion charm on it. He watched as the ex-Auror mumured a bit, waving his wand around.

A second later, yellow grass grew beneath his feet, with a few rocky outcroppings appearing around the room.

"Africa? Of all places, Africa?"

Harry was forced to block a Concussion Curse that flew from Moody's wand.

"For your information, Africa's plains provide a perfect place to hone the silence that one must have! For simply rustling the grass will help your enemy, Potter!"

The teen grumbled. "What're we doing today, sir?"

Moody grinned and flicked his wand. A simple sword appeared in the air, and propelled itself at Harry.

Honed by Quidditch Practice, Harry easily caught the sword. "Please tell me we're not fencing."

Harry didn't like the predatory smile that appeared on Moody's face. "Don't worry, Potter. We're not fencing."

To Harry's utter shock, the staff that Moody held lengthened, a sharp blade protruding from the top end and forming an eight foot long halberd.

"Defend yourself!" Moody barked.

Harry had only a second before the sharp blade protruded the air next to him, an inch away. He cursed. This was going to be harder than he initially thought.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was confused.

For the past half year, she had been estranged from her first friends, her grades had slipped, and she even heard Snape mention to McGonagall that she had lost the luster and potential she once had.

That worried her.

She wasn't on speaking terms with Tracey anymore, which hurt her deeply. The blonde simply slipped out of her life, citing that she had hurt Harry and herself by keeping the relationship secret. Though she put more emphasis on Harry then her.

And then there was Harry.

Her heart panged at the thought.

Harry hadn't talked to her about anything important since the Astronomy Tower, and for some reason, she had started to miss him.

Miss the way his eyes sparkled, the small, slight twitch of his lips when he was amused, and the genuine chuckles he had.

It scared Daphne how much that feeling came to her.

She was supposed to be with Blaise!

Blaise was handsome enough, he was polite, he was the epitome of a future pureblood husband.

Of course, he didn't have that much magical power and had a tendency to be a sychophant, but other than that, he was a good boyfriend and a decent kisser.

But even then, Daphne couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something that she deeply missed. For the entire summer, she had sat around, moody and listless.

But why?

Daphne heaved herself up from her bed, and out into the corridor.

A talk with her mother would clarify things.

It always did.

* * *

Harry screamed in agony as a blade sliced his right pectoral, blood quickly staining his shirt. He blinked through the sweat that covered his eyes, and saw the danger, but was too late.

The butt of Moody's halberd smashed into the chest with an inhuman power, sending him flying across the room and smashing into the grass.

In their first bout, Harry had received a long slash up his leg after he had rolled underneath a horizontal blow.

He had sincerely hoped that such a cut was an accident.

In their next bout, Moody had disarmed him, leaving a bloody gash up his forearm.

Harry had received dozens of wounds over the next bouts, each seeming to last an hour.

The teen groaned as he finally came to a stop, twenty feet away from Moody. Grunting, he pushed himself up, in time to dodge a thrust from the halberd.

"Pathetic Potter. You can't even last a minute against me! Do you know what that means?"

The teen lifted his sword, deflecting a diagonal cut and spinning around, letting his right leg lash out.

Unfortunately, Moody had anticipated the move, maneuvering the blade so that it cut into the limb. Harry grunted in pain, leg falling uselessly back onto the ground.

A mere second later, the long handle of the halberd swept him off his feet.

"At this rate, you wouldn't beat me in a thousand years, Potter! You're that pathetic."

Harry glared angrily up at Moody, rage overpowering the pain. "Are you fucking kidding me? All the fuck you're goddamn doing is smashing your enormous fucking_ halberd_ against my two inch thick sword!"

He was forced to roll to the side when said halberd descended into the spot he was in a second before. Gritting his teeth, Harry swung the sword, countering Moody's secondary slash, but was lifted in the air when Moody's boot hit his ribs, cracking a few.

"I was wrong about you. You have no potential whatsoever! You're even worse than your father, and believe me, that's saying something."

Harry roared in rage. He knew Moody was baiting him, but he didn't care. He resumed the attack, battering Moody's defenses and forcing him back a few steps. A left cut was barely blocked by the staff, a thrust knocked to the side, an under hand deflected, each blow forcing Moody back a tiny bit.

However, he overextended one of his cuts and received a wound on his deltoid for it. Harry clutched his shoulder and rolled to the side, thinking he had avoided weapon before being smashed in the face with the hilt.

Harry vaguely sensed being blasted across the room once more from a bolt emerging from Moody's enchanted halberd.

"You think that power is easy to gain Potter? You better think again."

Harry raised his sword, parrying a downward strike and countering with a slash to the knee, which Moody merely jumped over.

The ex-Auror kicked his hand, sending the sword flying away from him.

"What you seek cannot be gained without blood and sweat. Sacrifice. Pain," Moody continued calmly, ignoring Harry's howl of pain. "Power is not just your magical index number or your class of wizard. Its also diligence. Resilience. Discipline. Vigilance. Willpower."

Harry struggled to his sword, his body on fire. But Moody took no notice.

"I can make you great, Potter. But I, and many of your future mentors, can only do so if you have those qualities. Great men are made great by these traits. Weak men are made weak by them."

"It's up to you whether you are willing to sacrifice things to gain those traits. It's up to you whether you want to give up and seek mediocrity and simplicity in life, or if you want to become great and your name entwined with history forever. It is up to you!"

Harry glanced up at his teacher, his tormentor, the object of his loathing.

"The question is, Potter, are you willing?" Moody snarled, halberd pointed at Harry, crackling with tendrils of magical energy.

Panting in pain, Harry pushed himself up with aid of his sword. His legs shook as the sword no longer acted as a crutch, but a weapon, the edge pressing against his cheek, tip pointed at Moody.

The ex-Auror smiled. "Good."

With that, the two charged, ready to clash once again.

* * *

**AN: Hey guys.**

**I've decide that a Harry/Daphne pairing would be most suitable, but they won't get together for a while.**

**Review, Fav, and Follow if you want.**

**The Teutonic Knight**


	8. Chapter 8: Summer Part 2 and Fourth Year

**AN: Hello**

**Recommendations? Advice? Praise?**

**Review.**

* * *

**31 August 1992 **

Harry cursed as a Moody's halberd grazed his cheek.

Two months of Moody's harsh training had done much to help his already impressive physique, though at an extreme price.

He let the blade of the halberd come an inch away from his face, before he slashed at Moody's unguarded arm.

Harry smiled when he saw Moody flinch and falter. He lifted his sword and pressed his new advantage.

Moody was forced back, yet fought with a grace unnatural to someone with a wooden leg. Harry swore when said wooden leg smacked him the knee, forcing his sword away from Moody's vulnerable back.

However, Harry quickly recovered, twisting to avoid the thrust Moody sent before sliding the blade down the handle.

Moody was faced with a choice: lose the weapon, or lose his fingers.

He chose the former.

With a clang, the halberd fell to the ground. Harry turned as it did so, extending his leg and lashing out.

Unfortunately, Moody took hold of the leg, and turned it, making Harry fly through the air once more.

Harry lay on the ground, disoriented, when his magic yelled out a warning. He barely flipped into the air, a mere second away from losing an ear.

"That was close, Potter! Next time, don't take so long in getting up!"

Eyes narrowed, Harry advanced slowly on Moody.

The ex-Auror and the teen circled around one another, until Moody lost his patience.

Under the onslaught of blows, Harry saw a tiny little opening, when Moody overextended on a swing.

Quickly, he ducked underneath the swing, and kicked, hooking his foot around the handle. Harry backflipped, sending the weapon flying.

Without missing a beat, he landed, blade at Moody's throat.

The two simply stood there for a moment, in silence, before Moody broke into a huge, vicious smile.

"You did it Potter! You finally beat me!"

Harry grinned tiredly, before lowering the blade cautiously.

"Constant Vigilance, Potter! I've taught you well."

Moody engulfed Harry into a gruff hug, surprising the normally composed teen.

"Want to know a secret, Potter?"

"Yeah?" replied Harry, curious.

Moody smirked. "That was the most ruthless training regimen I've given anybody in my entire life."

Harry stood up, shocked. "But sir! You said I was the worst student you've ever had!"

"You fucking kidding me, Potter? The one time I fought your father in a blade duel, as he had lots of training with some fancy ass fencer, I chopped his hand off. He was damn lucky that I had a Healer nearby. Arrogant bastard." Moody snorted.

The teen smiled at Moody's talk of his father.

"Anyways, I've got a surprise for you before you go." Moody said. "Follow me."

Harry cautiously followed Moody, as the ex-Auror's surprises were usually not pleasant. His curiosity was aroused when he saw Moody pull out a thin rectangular object with a clip on one end.

"What's that?"

"Catch, Potter." Moody gruffly said, throwing the object.

Deftly, Harry caught it, only to nearly drop it in surprise at the transforming object.

The end opposite of the clip lengthened, with the corners of the lengthening side widening.

Flowing like water, the length of the metal smoothed out and thinned, forming sharp edges. A few seconds, a full sword was in Harry's hand.

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"Coldada, sword of El Cid," Moody spoke. "Won in combat against the Count of Barcelona, or better known as the Dark Count of Barcelona. The blood it has drawn from includes the Light Radicals Diego Gonzalez and Alfonso IV. Its history is full of blood and betrayal, and for three hundred years it has not been wielded. Until now, of course."

"Moody! How much did this cost you?"

The ex-Auror shrugged. "About four thousand Galleons. I got the money from all the bounties from those Death Eaters. It's time it was put to good use."

"Thanks," Harry said sincerely.

Moody smiled viciously. "Thank me later, Potter. Goodbye. I'm glad I trained you."

Harry returned the smile, before he retracted the sword, and clipped it to him. He moved over to the fireplace, and with one last wave at Moody, cried out, "The Leaky Cauldron!"

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE POTTER!" was the last words he heard from Moody before he was whirled away.

* * *

Harry stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron, cursing as he tripped. Quickly, he righted himself, and walked over to the bartender, flipping him a Sickle.

"A Butterbeer, please."

The bartender nodded and bustled off, filling a mug with the drink and sliding it over. Harry chugged it down, slid it back over, and left.

Swiftly, he tapped the bricks leading to the Alley, ignoring a crone as she begged for money.

Pity hitting his heart, he tossed a Galleon at the crone, who squealed in delight. Harry merely rolled his eyes and left.

The streets were once more full of people, as the school year was coming on once more. Harry spotted his brother in the distance, and roughly shoved him out of the way.

Ignoring the crowd around one Gilderoy Lockhart, he continued on his way to Gringotts, entered through the familiar bronze doors, and stopped at a teller.

"Yes?" the goblin snarled.

Harry glanced at the nametag. "Yes, Mr. Sharpfang. I would like to open an account here at Gringotts."

"Name?"

"Harry Potter."

Sharpfang nodded. "What sort of protections do you want?"

"The normal please."

"Your initial deposit?"

Harry took out a bag, filled with five hundred Galleons. "Here."

The teller took the bag and weighed it. He then moved over to another desk, where he consulted the occupant for a moment, before motioning Harry to follow.

The teen followed the goblin into the tunnel, where a mine cart was waiting.

Harry grinned and hopped in. In a flash, the cart was off, adrenaline filling his veins. He glanced at the goblin, who had a similar grin.

Who knew goblins were such adrenaline junkies?

They stopped quite soon, to the disappointment of both creatures, as he was in the normal security vault.

Sharpfang fished out a key and twisted it, before asking Harry to place his palm onto a metal plate that appeared.

Harry did so, and the door opened, revealing a medium sized room. Shrugging, he opened the bag of Galleons and tossed all but ten of them into the room. Finished, he stepped back out, shut the door, and moved to the cart.

Another wild cart ride later, Sharpfang and Harry stood in the lobby of Gringotts.

"Do you need anything else, Mr. Potter?"

Harry hesitantly said, "I would like an Inheritance Test as well."

"Ten Galleons, Mr. Potter."

The gold was exchanged, and the goblin led him into an office marked "Inheritance Tests."

"Please sit down, Mr. Potter. Griphook will be here in a moment."

Harry nodded and sat.

A few minutes later, another goblin entered. "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter."

"Good afternoon, Griphook."

"Do you want to know anything on Inheritance Tests before we start?"

The teen shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Thanks, though."

"Then please, place your and over this parchment. I'm going to cut you, so this might hurt a bit."

Harry watched stonily as the goblin cut his hand, causing his blood to fall onto the parchment. Griphook waved his hand once, and the wound was healed.

Moments later, letters began to form on the parchment.

_HARRY JAMES POTTER_

_Parents: James Charles Potter (Father), Lily Rose Evans-Potter (Mother)_

_Siblings: Daniel William Potter_

_Magical Index Number: 492_

_Wizard Class:Grand Sorcerer_

_Abilities_

_-Parseltongue_

_-Tempestmaster_

_-Mage Sight_

_-Partial Metamorphagus (Limited to Facial Build)_

_-Natural Affinity: Occulemency_

_-Natural Affinity: Magical Air Transportation_

_-Natural Affinity: Rune Creation and Implementation_

_Abnormalities_

_-25% Less Pain Neurons_

_-Cartilage Tensile Strength 50% higher than normal_

_-Replenishing Magical Core_

_-Heightened Healing Rate (400%)_

_-Horcrux in Lightning Scar_

_Other_

_Magical Heir to Myrddin Emrys _

Griphook froze when reading the last line.

Suddenly, the goblin prostrated himself. "Milord, forgive me for my ignorance. I can only hope that you will spare my life, sir."

Harry sighed.

It looked like another long day.

* * *

"So you're saying I'm the magical descendent of Merlin, I can command pretty much all creatures on the planet, I'm going to return the magical, though not the muggle, world to the state of Avalon, and I have a piece of Voldemort's soul in my forehead right now?"

Ragnok, the goblin-king of Britain, nodded. "Pretty much, Lord Potter."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Again, call me Harry."

"Of course, Lord Harry."

The teen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Ok. First and foremost, can I get rid of the soul piece right now?"

"Sir, we will need to wait until next summer for the preparations. If we rush it, we could make it by Christmas but Horcruxes are very vile pieces of magic, and the goblin ritual will take time to set up. I apologize profusely for not scheduling this earlier."

"It's alright," Harry said, waving his hand tiredly. "Just contact me when you're ready, alright?"

"Yes, Lord Harry."

"Thank you," Harry replied. He turned away and walked out of the throne room, hood in place.

As soon has he reached the lobby, the goblins bowed to him...again!

Muttering angrily, he stormed past the stunned clients of Gringotts and out into the daylight.

Harry was about to head to Florish & Blotts to get a worthless pile of textbooks from Lockhart when he heard loud cracks in the middle of the alleyway.

A gang of what appeared to be bounty hunters were firing spells indiscriminately at the crowd. In the middle was a tied up girl with astounding beauty, with black hair covering her main facial features.

Harry sighed.

A long day, indeed.

* * *

Calvin Clade was gleeful.

The entire operation was going flawlessly at the moment, with his fellow bounty hunters killing the few bodyguards that protected the stunning girl, and immediately binding her with ropes.

That was all the Head of the Business Affairs and Confiscation Department had for his precious daughter.

Then again, not many really suspected that the daughter of such a boring department would be attacked, so that was probably all the man could afford.

Calvin gleefully watched as a Bludgeoning Curse hit a nearby participating bystander, sending him flying. The follow up of a Bone-Breaking Curse kept him down.

He could just imagine the fun that he would have with the girl.

After all, his contractor had told him that "breaking" her would allot another thousand Galleons.

Something that he would gladly do.

The girl behind him whimpered. Calvin turned around, slapping her in the face like the bitch she was.

"What? Scared, honey? Wait till tonight..." he grinned, gleeful at the frightened expression that her face took on.

The expression was still there, when a second later, Calvin Clade fell to the ground, a crater in his back.

* * *

Harry flipped over a nasty Cutting Curse, returning fire with two blades of air and a blast of dark fire. The two blades lopped off the arms of the offending wizard, a scream resonating throughout the Alley for a second before the inferno engulfed his target.

His magic detected a spell coming from his left, and the Piercing Curse was sucked into Harry's palm, before being sent out a triple the power. Harry didn't even glance at the screaming bounty hunter, instead deciding to cast five Entrails-Explosion Curses.

Two of the wizards were able to block the curse, though two silent Blasting Curses granted them a quick death.

The other wizard wasn't as lucky. He screamed as his entrails exploded, showering the last three bounty hunters in blood, gore, and half digested food.

The last two wizards were capable duellers and lazily deflected the curse.

"_Scopolus_!"_  
_

The teen blasted the boulder into pieces, before levitating them and Banishing them at the bounty hunters.

One was hit in the shoulder, but the two manage to transfigure most of the pieces into knives and banish them back at Harry.

He promptly retransfigured the knives into vicious hawks, sending them into a battle frenzy and straight at his opponents.

The raven haired wizard winced in slight sympathy at the sight of the hapless wizards screaming when their eyes were gouged out. He cast two Entrail-Explosion Curse at his enemies.

This time, they were not able to block.

Harry stalked through the remains, deflecting incoming attack after attack.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry barely glanced at the Killing Curse, sending an unlucky bird at it.

"_Sectumsempra_!"

The Dark Cutter hit one of the bounty hunters, bleeding him dry.

A spear of ice later, and there was only one.

This bounty hunter was different. He had an experience, for sure. And he had passed up using a wand, in favor of a sword.

In curiosity, Harry sent a silent Stunner.

The man slashed the sword, splitting the spell into two useless spell parts. The teen grinned.

A challenge at last.

Harry slid his secondary wand back into the holster, pulling out Coldada, the handle elongating and forming into a sword.

By the widening of the bounty hunter's eyes, he had never seen the likes of it.

The two duellers circled one another slowly, before the bounty hunter charged, sword raised.

Harry dodged the man's blows, blocking only when necessary, mildly impressed. The bounty hunter certainly had talent. It was a pity it was used in such a way.

He parried a blow before taking the initiative, driving forward in a seemingly random pattern of moves, arms a blur.

The bounty hunter backed up, his moves becoming frantic, blocking stiffly. Small cuts began to appear around his body, seemingly harmless yet debilitating to the hunter's movements.

He swung at what seemed to be an opening, never noticing Harry's blade wrap around his own, twisting the sword out of the hunter's grip and neatly cutting off the hand.

The man howled, but only for a second.

Coldada slammed into the bounty hunter's chest, up to hilt, before it shrunk into its natural form.

Harry leered at the dying man's eyes, seeing the hate, fear, and resignation in his eyes before the man died.

Forcing himself not retch, he walked over to the captive, a wandless Cutting Curse removing her bonds.

The girl was crying, her black hair dirty and tangled.

Slowly, he lifted her head.

"Are you ok?"

Harry froze when he saw a very familiar face.

Daphne Greengrass nodded slowly, so Harry said softly, "Take care. Be more alert next time."

With that, he forced himself to turn away, forced himself to keep from revealing himself.

"Don't leave me please," Daphne said softly.

Harry turned around hesitantly, before walking back.

"Take this," he said, giving her a small ring. "Whenever you're in trouble, turn it, and I'll know."

He again rose and walked away.

"Who are you?"

Harry turned, slightly, his pained look invisible under the hood.

"A nobody."

The sudden pops of Apparition suddenly rang out, and Aurors raced towards the scene.

Harry cursed and walked briskly away. When bystanders began to shout and point at him, he ran and flamed out, a little known trick Moody had taught him.

It was extremely hard to ward against due to the nearly unexplainable method of travel, and not to mention the rarity of its practice.

It didn't hurt that it looked awesome as well.

* * *

**1 September 1992**

Harry sat in the compartment, hat pulled down to hide his face.

The first year he didn't sit with Blaise and Daphne.

Both of which was in the adjacent compartment, one smirking with the pureblood faction and yelling insults at Muggleborns as they passed, while the other looked on disapprovingly.

The teen sighed heavily when he heard another person, probably another fan, tried to open the door.

He never did teach Blaise that locking charm.

"Harry! Open the goddamn door!"

Harry opened one eye, and seeing Tracey as well as his other female friends, waved his hand.

The group poured in, and a second later, the compartment door shut, nearly crushing an autograph seeker.

Harry rolled his eyes before greeting the girls.

"Hey guys."

"Hey Harry," the group chorused back.

"How was your summer Harry?" Annalisa asked.

The teen inwardly laughed. "It was...interesting. I got a tutor."

"Its not like you need a tutor," Joyce growled, the Asian witch shaking her head. "I've been trying to beat you in every subject for three fucking years, and you beat me without trying!"

Harry smirked. "Jealous much?"

Joyce shook her black hair. "Not at all, Potter."

The two burst out in silent laughter.

"How was your summer, Tracey?"

"Didn't do much. We did go to France for a while. I even got to try some enchanted champagne! I actually got tipsy, and the next day I felt horrible. Probably won't do it again for a while."

"Well, I'm gonna try out for Chaser this year," Caitlin said, glancing at Harry. "Do you think I could make it?"

The compartment was filled with affirmative answers, but Harry said slyly, "Think you can beat me, Caitlin?"

The girl said hotly, "I can take you on any day, Potter!"

"No, you can't," Harry replied drily.

Even Harry was forced to smile at Caitlin's fuming face.

The train ride passed quickly amongst the group of friends, while from the compartment next door, another person watched, envious and sad for what could've been.

The five were still talking and joking when they reached the carriages, when Harry stopped short.

"What the hell are those?"

The girls stopped giggling amongst themselves for a moment.

"What, Harry?" asked Joyce, annoyed.

"Can't you see them? They're right frickin' there!"

Tracey frowned. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to say you officially cracked."

The five burst into laughter, but suddenly, Harry remembered.

"Wait...the carriages are pulled by Thestrals! They can only be seen by those who have seen..." Harry muttered quietly. "Death."

The four girls stood in shock.

"If...if you don't mind me asking," Annalisa said timidly. "Whose death did you witness?"

Harry glanced at each girl. "It's...private guys," he said, looking down at his feet. "I don't know if you guys should know."

"C'mon Harry. You know we won't judge you for it," Joyce said softly.

"Its-it's not that," Harry stammered. "It's more like what your guys' reaction will be."

"We'll give you an Oath of Secrecy!"

"Yeah!"

"C'mon Harry..."

The five clambered onto the carriage still begging the raven haired teen, and after a secrecy oath from each, he said quietly, "Quirrell."

"WHAT?"

Harry winced at the collective shouts. "You heard me. I saw Professor Quirrell die."

Joyce gulped. "Did you-did you kill him?"

The raven-haired teen looked up at his friends, eyes as cold as ice.

"I did."

* * *

**31 October 1992**

The next few months passed by quickly, with Harry again achieving stardom in Quidditch, becoming the top of the class, and becoming the most desired fourth year, according to Witch Weekly.

As if that damn achievement meant anything for him.

Harry Disillusioned himself as another group of giggling girls headed in his general direction.

After waiting a minute or so, he removed the invisibility charm and stalked through the halls again.

As usual, Harry was spending his Halloween alone, as the mere memory of the Dark Lord incident was enough to make him lose his temper.

It was also usually the day he pulled an all nighter, as the repressed memories would often come back to him and make him scream, pretty much waking everyone.

As he turned around a corner to find a deserted hallway, he heard a voice.

_Rip...Tear...Killllll!_

"What the?"

Harry flipped Coldada out, the blade elongating, the familiar balance comforting him.

"_Who'sssss there..._" he asked, cautiously.

He reached the end of the corridor, where a thick, metallic smell assaulted his nose.

Blood!

Taking a deep breath, he funneled magic to his eyes in an attempt to shield against instant forms of death, and swung around the corner, the Lightning Whip Curse on his lips.

He was met by a very strange sight.

On the far end, a message was written in blood, still fresh. And above it...

Harry gaped in shock.

Was that Mrs. Norris...Petrified?

He heard sudden running steps down the hall, and he quickly Disillusioned himself.

The rather chubby form of Daniel Potter and his two best friends appeared.

"Merlin!" one Ronald Weasley said. "What the hell is that?"

Harry merely rolled his eyes, and, sensing the majority of the students about to enter the corridor, slipped off into the direction of the Slytherin Common Rooms.

To his satisfaction, no one was there. He plopped down into a nearby armchair and Disillusioned himself, waiting for the Slytherins to come back.

It was all too easy after that. He slipped back into the crowd, unnoticed, and trudged upstairs.

Right before he did so, he frowned at Daphne Greengrass's right hand, which was covered in ink.

She had been writing a lot in a small black book lately.

Harry shrugged.

As long as she was safe, that was her business.

* * *

**13 June 1992**

"Fuck!" Harry yelled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Joyce and Caitlin were Petrified, Tracey severely depressed, and Annalisa was currently in a coma due to severe trauma.

And now Daphne was taken into the Chamber.

For the past few months, the group, excluding Daphne, had been researching Slytherin's monster.

And now, his friends had paid for his stupid mistakes.

Harry sat on his bed, head in his hands.

Where could the bloody Chamber be?

He was called the smartest and brightest flame of the new generation.

And he couldn't solve something so...simple?

Harry scanned his archives.

He remembered that all the books on recent deaths at Hogwarts were gone.

There was Myrtle Magnolia, a sad girl who died the last time the Chamber was opened.

Myrtle...

Moaning Myrtle?

Harry cursed. How did he not notice the connection before? Harry flew down the stairs, storming out of the common room after a mass Stunner wave that knocked everyone out for about five minutes.

Not caring about the drain on his magic, he stalked up to the second floor bathroom, eyes narrowed when he heard voices.

He drew his wand and entered.

Only to roll his eyes as he saw Lockhart, his brother, and Ron Weasley arguing with Myrtle.

Hoping to slip by unnoticed, he turned on his Mage Sight, detecting a small bit of magic on the sink area.

"_Open..._"

The sink slid open, revealing a long tunnel.

Success!

Unfortunately, that caused the Three Stooges to turn around.

Harry sighed.

"Get the Headmaster, tell him that the beast is a basilisk and the chamber is here."

His brother angrily replied, "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! _I'm_ the one who gives orders here! Understand?"

Harry rolled his eyes, not willing to argue with his brother, and jumped down the slide, and into the darkness below.

Unfortunately, the Three Stooges decided to follow.

The raven haired teen shook his head and walked briskly to the center of the room.

Just like he had predicted, an enormous shedded snake skin was lying there in the middle. Behind him, he heard Ron whimper, and smirked.

He turned around just in time to see Lockhart grab Ron's Spell-O-Taped wand, and begin cackling.

"Well, well, well. It seems as if we have a predicament here. I'll just say that poor Harry and Daniel along with Ronald were killed down in this lonely chamber, and I had to escape, unable to save them."

Daniel began to splutter utter nonsense while Ron just broke down.

"Of course you guys know I'm a fraud!" Lockhart said.

Judging by the looks on the two Gryffindors' faces, they didn't.

Lockhart continued, "But I _am_ skilled in Memory Charms. So I'll just charm you all and leave you to die, all alone..._Obliviate_!"

Harry watched, mildly amused when Lockhart flew backwards with an inordinate amount of force, slamming into the ceiling and bringing a pile of rocks down.

Leaving the two Gryffindors to cry and weep in desperation, Harry walked, trying to calm his nerves as he approached the doorway.

"_Open..._" he said, watching the Chamber door slide open neatly, an inky blackness waiting beyond.

It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked into the room, ready to fight to the death.

* * *

**AN: This chapter covered a lot cuz I never really liked second year**

**I'm sorry if it was fast. I'll edit it if you guys request it...by reviewing of course**

**I'll spend the most time on the Triwizard Tournament...**

**Follow/Fav/Review**

**The Teutonic Knight**


	9. Chapter 9: The Chamber of Secrets

**AN: Here's the new chapter**

* * *

The first thing that Harry saw was Daphne, lying in the center of a dank chamber, a spectral figure hovering over her, pacing.

Harry narrowed his eyes, Disillusioning himself and muffling his footsteps. While doing so, he took a good luck at the room around him.

The vaunted Chamber of Secrets was dark, dank, and quite tall. Statues of Salazar and his many exploits adorned the walls.

Harry smirked at the decorations. Slytherin was a bit more vain than he thought.

In the center of the farthest wall, the huge open mouthed face of Salazar Slytherin lay.

The teen quickly calculated the size of the mouth.

And cursed.

The mouth's size matched the snake skin in the entrance room of the Chamber.

Apprehensively, Harry walked forward, staying in the shadows and watching the spectral animation pace.

A silent Reductor Curse shot towards the ghost like figure.

Unfortunately, there was no effect, and the figure spun around like a rocket.

"Whose there?"

Harry didn't reply, merely muttering, "_Spiritus enim securi_!"

A luminescent axe hurtled through the air, but was negated by the figure.

It narrowed its eyes. "Whose there? Dumbledore? You meddling old fool. I always knew you were more Slytherin than Gryffindor. Tell me, how did you get in?"

Slowly, Harry undid the charms that hid him and stepped clearly into the dim light. The figure's eyes widened in surprise.

"A student? You must be powerful and knowledgable to sent the Ghost Dispelling Axe at me."

Harry said nothing.

"Tell me, how did you get in here?"

Again, Harry did not reply, instead asking, "Who are you?"

The figure shrugged. "Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Harry concealed his shock, before smirking contemptuously. "Well, well, well. What a pleasure to finally meet the self-styled Lord Voldemort. A half-blood, of all things. A half-blood leading the Pureblood faction against England. I sense something wrong here, hmmm?"

Tom snarled. "How do you know this?"

"Couple little birds told me. Maybe a couple trips from Little Hangleton helped too." Harry said, smirking.

"WHO ARE YOU!" the figure roared.

"No one of consequence, my dear Tom." Harry blocked a rather obscure dark curse which exploded the joints in one's body. "That wasn't very nice, Tommy. Is this how you treat your guests?"

Finally, the shit got serious, and Harry was forced to send an unlucky bird at a Killing Curse.

The duel rampaged back and forth, stone and statues pulverized, the very foundations of Hogwarts shaking slightly.

An enormous fire snake reared high into the air, but was doused with a storm of ice and water, before being sent straight back at Tom.

The younger version of Voldemort blasted it into pieces, but that was exactly what Harry had expected. The ice statue was blown apart, but the shards melded together into a cage.

A quick holy spell, and it was near impervious to magical attacks.

But Tom Riddle was one of the most powerful wizards of the century, gathering his magical strength and pitting it against Harry's.

A duel of wills engaged, but Harry knew he was going to lose.

Riddle was calling upon the magic that he had when he was at the prime of his rule, while Harry was calling upon his natural magic at fourteen years of age.

Losing ground slowly, Harry gave in at once, sending a magical backlash that knocked both combatants down.

Harry was the first to get up, and the figure was wheezing, worn out by the battle.

"Give up, Tommy. You've lost."

The older wizard glared at Harry. "_Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four..._"

Harry's eyes widened in horror as the Chamber began to shake.

The Basilisk was here.

The teen closed his eyes, forcing his magic to his eyes to combat the death stare.

He felt the presence of the Basilisk, rearing high above him. Harry snapped his wand back into its holster, Summoning Colada from his belt to his hand.

His eyes snapped open, fighting against the Basilisk's stare.

And the battle began.

The Basilisk made the opening move, its head shooting down at an impossible speed.

However, Harry was faster, slashing at the Basilisk's scales.

Unfortunately, no harm was done at all.

Harry had no time to think as the tail of the enormous snake swung towards him. He ducked in time, again slashing upwards.

To his disappointment, there was no effect whatsoever.

He led the Basilisk around the Chamber, slashing at the Basilisk's armored scales.

Time was running out.

The Basilisk thrust its head out, hissing madly. As it tried to bite him, Harry sent a bolt of electricity at the mouth, making it screech in pain.

Quickly, while the snake was distracted, Harry conjured a horde of roosters.

All of which were killed when the mighty snake's tail smashed into the group.

Harry growled in annoyance, sending a jet of flame at the armor, only to watch it splatter harmlessly.

A quick spell, and the blade of Colada lit up in flames. When the basilisk charged once more, Harry thrust upwards.

This time, it caused a small wound, to his satisfaction.

The battle went on, a stalemate that seemed to last forever.

There numerous small cuts on the basilisk's sixty foot long body, but they were minor annoyances.

Harry worriedly noticed that Daphne's skin was growing paler by the second.

There wasn't much time left.

He grunted in pain as the Basilisk's heavy tail smashed into him, sending him flying across the room.

Harry gracefully flipped through the air, sliding across the floor once he landed.

Suddenly, a beautiful song broke out, and a phoenix burst into existence, a hat clutched in its claws.

"Well, hello Mr. Potter. Pleasant day?" the Sorting Hat asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "As usual Hat. Dumbledore send you?"

"Mhm. Didn't expect you, but rather your brother."

Sudden laughter broke out, and the Basilisk stopped at the command of Tom. "This is all Dumbledore sends to fight me? A Hat, Phoenix, and a student."

"Said student who exhausted you in a duel, Tommy," Harry said drily.

"Cheeky as ever, Mr. Potter?" the Hat asked.

Harry's lips twitched upwards. "Always. Did the Headmaster send you here for a reason? No offense, but I can't imagine a Hat fighting a Basilisk."

The Hat chuckled. "Reach into me, Mr. Potter. Not in the sexual manner, mind you."

Harry rolled his eyes and placed his hand inside the Hat, grasping what appeared to be a handle. Frowning, he pulled it out, gaping at the object.

The Sword of Godric Gryffindor!

He turned it around to find an even more surprising relevation.

Instead of Gryffindor emblazoned proudly on the blade like it was suppose to, it said Tizona.

"The two swords of El Cid reunited once more. Impressive, no?"

Harry grinned, grasping both legendary swords in his hands.

He turned and faced the Basilisk.

"Time for round two, bitch!"

* * *

Tom Riddle watched in quite contemplation as the mere boy charged the enormous snake.

At first, he thought the boy was a stupid, fairly knowledgable but arrogant boy.

He reversed that opinion.

The boy did not die when he looked into the Basilisk's eyes.

He fought.

Tom's eyes narrowed. This boy was powerful, very powerful, and very driven.

He hated to admit it, but the boy was more talented than he was at the age.

Tom watched dispassionately as the boy flew through the air, propelling himself off the back of the snake and puncturing both of the Basilisk's eyes with the swords.

He winced as a shriek louder than anything he had ever heard resonated throughout the Chamber

The boy was very talented.

If he did not die today at his hand, then there was a very good chance Tom would die to the boy's hand.

And if he did, at least he would have a worthy successor.

Tom winced once more as the Basilisk let out a pained scream when the boy thrust both blades up its rear end.

That must've hurt.

The damnable look on the boy's face when he did so irked him even more.

Tom looked down at the girl he was sucking the life energy out of, when the contents of the diary hit him once more.

Harry Potter.

Tom sneered. The girl had talked about the wizard quite often, in deep contemplation.

The girl wasn't obsessed with him, but she talked about the boy at least once a day.

Some stupid shit about regret and betrayal.

But what was more interesting was her mentioning of his extraordinary academic performances.

Of his black hair. His witty insults. His unmatched knowledge. His enormous magical skill.

Could it be him?

Tom heard the boy taunt the Basilisk, something relating to anal sex with blades, in Parseltongue.

Yep, that was the Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry smirked in grim satisfaction as Colada imbedded itself into the Basilisk's right pectoral muscle, sinking deeply into the flesh.

The Basilisk screeched in pain, instinctively pulling backwards.

Pulling Colada with it.

Harry cursed as he was flung into the air again, but he managed to land just in time.

Conjuring a rooster to distract it, Harry flipped away from the basilisk, formulating a plan.

He maneuvered himself onto a fallen pillar, crouching, and sending his remaining reserves into his legs.

The basilisk ate the rooster, smashed a rock golem, and absorbed a jet of blue fire.

Harry knew it was now or never.

The Basilisk reared high into the air.

It was now.

It was either life or death.

Harry roared, forcing himself to leap into the air, soaring high above the snake.

Time slowed, and Harry's motion shifted.

His momentum slowed, and he fell towards the earth once more.

Blade cocked back, he reached the Basilisk's mouth, opened wide to kill.

And he thrust.

The blade of Godric Gryffindor, secretly El Cid, thrust upwards into the cavity of the Basilisk's mouth, piercing its brain.

With an animalistic howl, it fell to the ground.

Harry had won.

He had killed the Monster of Slytherin.

But everything comes with a price.

Harry looked at his left arm, excruciating pain rocketing through his body.

A neat hole was in his left arm, yet it left little blood.

Surprisingly, it was quite a clean wound.

He could feel his life ending. The venom was impossible to ignore.

Tom walked across the Chamber, clapping.

"Excellent job, Harry Potter. You have achieved a remarkable feat. Killing a Basilisk alone has not been done since the time of the Founders, and I doubt that even I could've done it."

Harry clenched his teeth, grunting as the poison tightened its grip.

"Alas, you are dying. You have failed your mission. Poor Daphne will die, and so will you. Did you know that she wished everything was different? Did you know she wished nothing happened with Blaise and herself?" Tom laughed. "She will die without ever telling you that."

Through the dim light, Harry saw a small black book.

The diary.

With great effort, he pulled himself over to the diary.

"Oh yes. And she told me of how you always wished you would break out of your brother's shadow. A pity it'll never happen." Tom sneered. "You had the potential to kill me, and I'm glad you're gone. Without you, there will be no one to stop me."

Harry looked up at him. "Fuck you Tom."

Colada flew towards him, into his outstretched hand, elongating.

The blade punctured the diary.

And the spectral figure that was Tom Riddle screamed, begging, pleading, and disappeared in a magical vortex.

Harry forced himself up, nearly crying out.

Next to him, Daphne stirred.

Harry forced a tired yet pleasant expression on his face.

"Harr-Harry?"

"Hey Daphne."

"Harry! You gotta get out! There's Tom and the Basilisk..." She looked around, noticing the corpse of a Basilisk and the mangled diary.

Harry smiled. "Its alright. They're dead. Both of them."

Daphne gaped.

"You gotta go Daphne. The phoenix will accompany you, my brother, Weasley, and Lockhart out of here."

"Bu-But what about you?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm fine. I'll just hang around here for another hour. Exploring, looking at the Basilisk, y'know."

"Are you sure? I mean, you look super worn out."

"I'm just tired. I'll rest for a moment as well," Harry said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it."

Daphne nodded hesitantly before walking towards the exit, head held high.

Before she could leave, Harry called out, "Hey Daph!"

She turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Before I lose my courage, I...I wish stuff was different between us." Harry smiled gently. "I forgive you for everything you've done, if you ever did anything to me."

Daphne nodded, eyes watery and smiled tearily. "Thanks."

She exited the room, the door slamming shut.

Harry collapsed on his knees, screaming in agony.

Through the pain, he head one last request.

"Hat!"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

He gritted his teeth. "I'm dying, Hat. You need to-ARGH-tell Dumbledore what happened. Tell my friends...I'm sorry. Tell Daphne I'm sorry."

The Hat nodded grimly. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I will."

"Tell Dumbledore, that...that..."

The phoenix flamed in, flying through the air before picking up the Hat and flaming out.

Harry fell to the floor, memories flashing by, a lifetime passing in a second...

* * *

_The bad man smirked. "So what do we have here? Daniel Potter, the boy with the at most mediocre magical core. And then Harry Potter. The eldest Potter child. A boy...if the prophecy is correct, has the power of an Ancient."_

_Harry quivered but stood defiantly. "Go away, you evil wizard. My mommy told me to protect my brother at all costs. And I will."_

_The bad man cackled. "A three year old speaking coherently? Its obvious that it is not the puny speck of dust you call a brother is the boy of the prophecy, but you!" The bad man laughed at the widening of the boy's eyes. "You have been deceived, young Potter, and for that mistake, you have been condemned to death. Avada Kedavra!"_

_The sickly green glow of the Killing Curse lit the room as it traveled at breakneck speed towards the eldest Potter child. The bad man's eyes were filled with glee as he saw the curse about to hit Harry._

_But Harry extended his arms, a golden shield forming, battling against the natural evil taint of the Killing Curse._

_Harry could feel will behind the bad man's curse failing, faltering, the while his own shield remained unwavering and strong. He felt sweat pour down his face as he fueled more of his will to protect, his love for his brother, his promise to his mother._

_With an inhuman howl, the Dark Lord was thrown back into a wall, the magical backlash destroying the room and throwing the combatants away from one another. _

_The bad man glanced up, horrified as he saw his own Killing Curse reflected back at his own self, the green light penetrating his body and enveloping him._

_While Harry Potter lay on the floor, a lightning scar on his forehead, his brother Daniel Potter was christened as the Boy-Who-Lived. Daniel's name was instantly famous, Harry's forgotten..._

* * *

_He glanced around, confused, when he heard a voice behind him._

"_Looking for Platform 9¾?"_

_Harry spun around. The owner of the voice of a young girl, around his age. She had long black hair with ice-blue eyes, lips turned up in a smirk._

"_Yes," he replied. "_

_She smirked. "The entrance to the Platform is disguised. The pillar over there is no solid object. Rather, it is a portal. Try running through it the first time. It helps."_

_Harry nodded, signifying his thanks before running full pace into the pillar. Right before he hit it, he closed his eyes, expecting to be transported to somewhere else..._

_Only to hit a real wall. Harry gritted his teeth and brought his hands to his forehead. He felt blood trickling down his face. Harry looked up at the girl, who had made a fool out of him in the middle of a populated Muggle train station._

_He stood up, waving his hand once, and the wound that opened up on his forehead closed. Harry smirked as he saw the look of surprise on the girl's face. He waved his hand once more, sending the girl flying right into the pillar behind her. Harry laughed at the glare she sent him._

_Smiling charmingly, he walked over, offering his hand to the girl. She glared at him and slapped the hand away. Ignoring it, he said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss..."_

"_Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass," the girl growled. "And you?"_

"_Harry. Just Harry."_

_Daphne raised one eyebrow, but didn't say a thing. "Nice to meet you."_

"_Likewise."_

* * *

"_Potter, Harry!"_

_Immediately, whispers broke out across the Great Hall._

"_Potter as in them Potters?"_

"_Adam Potter has an older brother?"_

"_He's the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived!"_

"_Do you think I can get Adam's signature through him?"_

_Harry clenched his fingers so tightly he drew blood. Hate flooded through him, yet he did not show it. With an impassive face he walked towards the Sorting Hat. Even the goddamn professors took an interest to him!_

_He met Daphne's gaze of shock as he strolled to the stool, smirking at her incredulous look. The last thing he saw was the weary face of Professor McGonagall before the hat covered his gaze._

_My, my, my. Look at what we have here...Harry Potter, the elder of the Potters, a voice said in his mind. Excellent Occulemency shields at such a young age, a pity it won't work on me._

_Goddamn you hat, won't Occulemency shields prevent all foreign intrusions on the mind?_

_Yes Mr. Pott-_

_Don't call me a Potter. I am not a Potter. I haven't been one for eight fucking years, hat._

_The Hat shook its head sadly, You still are in blood._

_Harry let the rage course through him. They abandoned me, Hat. They left me in a loveless family where I was forced to be their slave for three years, until I finally used my magic to make them shut the fuck up. I've been cooking for myself for my entire life. I've been working my entire life. I never had a childhood, Hat, it was all pure pain because of my fucking dimwit parents. And you have the audacity to question that? Or was it the Headmaster that sent me there?_

_Calm down, Mr. Potter. No, it was not him who decided that you would go to the Dursely's. He merely did what was requested of him._

_Don't even try lecturing me._

_I am sorry, Mr. Potter, that is all I will say. But onto the Sorting now, eh? We've wasted enough time debating on your status as a Potter or not._

_Fine. Get on with it._

_Hmmm...you have great bravery, but not so much it borders on foolishness. Loyal, but only to the ones that deserve it. Very hard working, diligent, and you believe knowledge is a key component in power. But your ambition and cunning is just as great, if not greater._

_Harry inwardly sneered, Can't decide Hat? _

_And...what's this? Your magical core is right now the size of Dumbledore's, and its still growing. Your multiple powers have not awakened yet, but don't worry, they soon will. You have a great future, Mr. Potter. You will become great, the Hat said solemnly._

_It continued, Your hate yet your wish to be recognized by your parents is admirable, but I will leave you with a warning. Hate is a powerful tool, and for you, it is a good thing. Never let go of it, because there will always be some that you can never forgive. But never let it control you either. Mr. Potter, you will become great in..._

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

_Before you leave Mr. Potter, I will add a piece of advice. Go to Gringott's next summer and do an Inheritance Test to unlock your powers. Good luck. The next couple decades will be very interesting with you..._

* * *

_Harry smirked in satisfaction. At this rate, he would set a record for most Grade Records broken in the entire thousand year history of Hogwarts._

_He arrived at the seemingly blank section of wall. "Cygnus Black."_

_The door slid open with a hiss and Harry stepped in._

_He froze._

_Amidst cat calls and wolf whistles, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were locked in an embrace, kissing fiercely._

* * *

_Harry was alone, walking around in the Western Wing of the castle._

_Two weeks._

_Two weeks after the little incident, and still, things were tense and awkward._

_He was about to turn a corner when a girl with auburn curls and blue eyes burst around the corner, streaks of tears running down her face._

_As soon as she saw Harry, she broke down into even more tears. "Don-don't hurt me!"_

"_What's wrong?" Harry said gently._

"_You-you're a Slytherin." she sobbed. "You're just going to call me a filthy little mudblood."_

_Harry's eyes hardened. "Who did this?"_

_Quivering, she pointed at a group of Slytherin boys strolling towards them._

_The teen stalked over to the group._

"_What Potter? Going to help a fil-"_

_He didn't have time to answer when a left hook met his chin._

_A second later, Harry dodged a jab to the face, grasping the arm and twisting it._

_A foot came up and connected with the face, smashing it in._

_Harry rolled beneath a haymaker, smashing the offending Slytherin's sensitive area with his foot as he did so. _

_A few seconds later, the last Slytherin smashed into the wall, unconscious._

_Slowly, Harry walked back to the wide-eyed girl._

_She kept on crying, so Harry shyly put an arm around her._

"_What's your name?" he asked._

_The girl looked up, smiling faintly. "Annalisa. Annalisa Turpin."_

* * *

_An Asian girl sat in the library, chewing her quill._

_Harry watched her pull her black hair in frustration, slightly amused._

_She was struggling in Arithmancy, as they were both a year ahead in the class._

_And she was too prideful to ask the teacher for help._

_Sighing, he went over to her table. Immediately, her head shot up, her brown eyes full of distrust._

"_What do you want, Potter?"_

_Harry smirked. "You seem frustrated," he said._

_The girl glared at him. "What do you want Potter?"_

"_To help you. I'm bored out of my mind, and you're in my accelerated Arithmancy, so..."_

"_I don't trust you."_

"_You shouldn't."_

_The two stared at each other for a moment, tense._

_She finally gave in. "Fine. I just don't get Helomod's Fifteenth Law of Arith-"_

"_May I have the honor of knowing your name?"_

_The Asian witch stared at him. "Joyce. Joyce Liao."_

_Harry nodded. "Harry Potter."_

* * *

_The Pitch was crowded, a Gryffindor versus Slytherin match._

_Harry zoomed across the field, Quaffle in hand, ready to score once more._

_Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur of motion. Curious, he turned. _

_Next to him was a brunette, angry blue eyes piercing Harry._

_He merely smirked, accelerating to full speed and leading her on a wild chase around the playing field._

_Harry watched, amusement turning into concern when she began to stretch both her hands out._

_He yelled, "You shouldn't do that! At these speeds, you're going to fall off!"_

_All he received in return was a gaze that burned through him. "Fuck you, Potter!"_

_Suddenly, she was jerked off her broom, a panicked yell emanating from her as she fell from a height of four hundred feet._

_Harry made a split second decision. He dove, eyes furrowed in concentration, his magic enhancing his senses to supernatural heights._

_He closed in on her falling form, and reaching the level of her, leveled out._

_Harry caught her with some effort, but the added weight was too much for the broom, and it began to fall._

_Cooly, Harry jumped right off the broom, letting it veer off into the distance as its cargo was gone. _

_The brunette was shaken. _

"_Th-thanks Potter," she mumbled._

"_Its nothing." Harry pointed at the goalposts._

_Confused, the brunette looked up, only to see a red ball fall through the rightmost goal._

_Harry laughed, releasing the girl from his grip. "Your name, miss?"_

_The girl glared at him, but it was obvious it was more one of amusement and humor rather than anger. "Well, Potter, its Caitlin."_

"_Harry Potter, of course. Pleased to meet you."_

_Caitlin gave a feral grin. "I'm going to rip you apart in the next play Potter."_

"_I'd like to see you try..."_

* * *

"_You think that power is easy to gain Potter? You better think again._

_Harry raised his sword, parrying a downward strike and countering with a slash to the knee, which Moody merely jumped over._

_The ex-Auror kicked his hand, sending the sword flying away from him._

"_What you seek cannot be gained without blood and sweat. Sacrifice. Pain," Moody continued calmly, ignoring Harry's howl of pain. "Power is not just your magical index number or your class of wizard. Its also diligence. Resilience. Discipline. Vigilance. Willpower."_

_Harry struggled to his sword, his body on fire. But Moody took no notice._

"_I can make you great, Potter. But I, and many of your future mentors, can only do so if you have those qualities. Great men are made great by these traits. Weak men are made weak by them."_

"_It's up to you whether you are willing to sacrifice things to gain those traits. It's up to you whether you want to give up and seek mediocrity and simplicity in life, or if you want to become great and your name entwined with history forever. It is up to you!"_

_Harry glanced up at his teacher, his tormentor, the object of his loathing._

"_The question is, Potter, are you willing?" Moody snarled, halberd pointed at Harry, crackling with tendrils of magical energy._

_Panting in pain, Harry pushed himself up with aid of his sword. His legs shook as the sword no longer acted as a crutch, but a weapon, the edge pressing against his cheek, tip pointed at Moody._

_The ex-Auror smiled. "Good."_

_With that, the two charged, ready to clash once again._

* * *

Harry gasped in pain, but he managed to form coherent thoughts.

Moody had been always right.

He had defeated the Basilisk, and had saved an innocent girl's life. Through sheer will. The virtues of Moody had made him into a warrior, and even now, he was sure to be remembered with reverence.

Something he had always dreamed of.

Harry was just a poor, lonely, and bitter teen. He had long ago decided to walk a lonely and painful path.

He could only hope that Daphne and his friends would never have to do so.

Harry fell to the ground.

The darkness was here, numbing the pain.

He gave up, a smile on his face.

The dark was cool, enveloping him slowly.

_Goodbye my life. It was a cruel one, yet strangely satisfying. Tracey, Annalisa, Caitlin, Joyce, and Daphne...live a good life._

_Please..._

The darkness filled his vision, clouding his mind, and he was at peace...

* * *

**AN: That took a while to get out.**

**Sorry bout that.**

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